Follow Me Down
by Bejiitto
Summary: AU. In a universe where our heroes are villains, thirteen year old Wally West struggles with the effect his acquired super speed has had on his life. Having run from home, his parents, his aunt and now his childhood hero, Wally's trying to stay out of trouble. Trouble soon finds him however, in the form of another young boy visiting the city. A bold, daring, Laughing Young Devil...
1. Artifacts

"Where to."

A far too young voice cut through the air in response. Wally West, thirteen year old self-appointed 'delinquent' of Central City, turned slightly and angled his genuinely surprised expression to where the voice had come from. The younger boy was still standing upon the concrete ledge of the roof they had been talking on... Well, that Wally had been talking _at _him on. Giving him a wagging finger and preaching on how spying isn't the most polite way to say 'Hi' to someone, the other boy had as of yet done nothing more than stand there and regard him quietly, which frankly gave Wally very few comedy cues to work off of. Naturally, the only logical response had been to keep talking at him. So he had done just that, and he thinks somewhere along the way, in the midst of his carelessly effusive nature, he must have accidentally asked the Boy Soldier of Gotham City for a play date.

Ever cool 'Kid Flash', as the Central City tabloids had been quick to dub him in answer to his meddling nightly escapades, just about managed to convert his awkward gawking into a breezy smile as he jerked his thumb in answer in the direction of a myriad of criss-crossing streets a few storeys below them. The only other sound made was that of his foot, tapping incessantly on the ground beneath them in its eternal obsessive buzz of excess energy.

"With _you_?"

That voice was now lilted with humor; the subject's face twisting with a countenance of visible amusement. The hair on the back of Wally's neck stood on end, his muscles seizing and locking in place as he allowed a moment to process just what exactly he was getting himself into. The boy in front of him was 'Nightwing'; right-hand of The Dark Knight of Gotham City, kind of a big deal. A really, really _dangerous _deal, Wally reminded himself, as he swept his eyes once more over the shorter figure standing mere meters away from him. That was _definitely _something that looked a lot like a jungle knife sheathed in his utility belt at his left hip, and that was _definitely _a loaded gun holster at his right thigh there, the thin leather straps that cut over his chest and snaked around to his back held god-knows-what behind there...

"If you can keep up."

Wally's voice had uttered in a knee-jerk reaction before his brain had given it permission. He instantly regretted it. Though his face continued to wear that smug teenaged smile that had recently come to define him, his heartbeat had picked up its pace to concerning degrees just within the moment of silence that ensued after his cocky response. No. No. What was he _thinking_. He was showing off his newfound attitude in the wrong place to the wrong people and taking his curiosity way too far. This was _serious_, he could be _killed_, why did he even come _up _here in the first place, why hadn't he just run, why wasn't he just running? He could still run, right now. Why wasn't he...? His brain and common sense kept screaming at him to move, but his body was frozen in place. Pushed to the edge. Salivating with anticipation. Captivated by the thrill of this imminent danger before him. He was...

Excited.

That was it, wasn't it.

Why he wasn't moving. Why he was still grinning with some kind of non-existent confidence at a boy who could actually kill him. _Kill _him. A boy younger than him, who _killed. _That... That wasn't cool. That wasn't fun. That was _terrifying_. Wally swallowed nothing and refocused his eyes on the dark figure in front of him. Clad in an inky blackness that clung to the legs, sleek charcoal boots and gloves that were loaded with compartments, crimson body armor that sported a dull gold band that dipped sharply in its center, those loose wraps of grey material around his neck, the fluttering black curtain that hung from his shoulders... Okay. The speedster then took a quick visual check of his own odds of survival in comparison. It was the usual. Sneakers. Old jeans. A red t-shirt he'd gotten for Christmas last year and had awkwardly painted a lightning bolt on. And a yellow bandana that had already slipped down from the lower half of his face. ... He always had his super speed. Him having superpowers automatically meant that-

"Sounds fun."

The kid- _Nightwing_- was right in front of him, smirking teasingly up into his face at such a leaning proximity that his cool, condensated breath tickled Wally's chin. There couldn't have been more than an inch or two between them.

"Lead the way."

Petrified, it took a few seconds for the 'amazing Kid Flash' to hastily gather his utterly shattered senses of security and comfort, and piece them together into a reaction. A reaction which consisted of a slight stutter, a stagger backwards and the haphazard pulling up of his bandana once more over his nose and mouth. Managing to alter the stutter into nervous laughter (which was a step in the preferred direction at least), Wally turned on heel and indicated a large, old looking complex in the distance. His pubescent voice was muffled only slightly by his 'disguise'.

"_Race you to the Museum._"

And with that, he kicked off the ground with more energy than he could ever remember giving to any getaway start. Even more than that time he had been caught spray-painting smileys on police cars by the owners thereof, or that time he had almost run right into Uncle B-... 'The Flash', and ran the risk of being discovered doing... Well, doing the stuff he's been doing for a while now. As bolts of visible lightning encased him and the world blurred into a rippling curtain of jet black and streetlights, Wally's mind began racing ahead in speculation of what the following chain of events would be.

Questions mercilessly bombarded his brain in quick succession; was- was 'Nightwing' going to follow him? How long should he wait at the Museum if he didn't? What was next if he did follow? Did he have a plan? Should he have a plan? Did 'Nightwing' have a plan? What was he even doing here? Why hadn't he asked him that in the first place? Why had he even talked to him? Why was he not running to Aunt Iris' to tell her the under-aged scourge of Gotham's underground was in their city? Also why was he entertaining the company of a nationally famous psychopathic criminal-killing 5th grader again?

Dust bloomed in the air as Wally came to a jerky stop at the steps to the Gedde Natural History Museum, also known as the prime attraction of the Mounds View district. Well, not counting the airport. Slowing his breath back to his regular rate, he straightened again and cast a look back over his shoulder to where he had come from.

Nothing.

Completely empty.

Central City was that kinda city. A large city, a marker in the Mid-west, sure. But it was no Gotham or Metropolis. In such residential districts as the one they were in now, a quiet calm descended at night like-... like a veil draped over the cage of a gaudy parrot, or something. In any young one's mind, this translated to; Best. Playground. Ever. Which is pretty much why Wally was still operating primarily at night, other than to avoid The Flash, the police, and too much public attention. Central's 'heroes' - Captain Cold, Mirror Master, Weather Wizard etc. - also seemed to adhere to a more regular sleeping schedule for most of the time. This ginger haired boy enjoyed his attention as much as any other teenager, but he also had the brain to know that his 'habits' were currently safest being committed under the cloak of night and then... admired, admired!, in daytime. Besides, like he could even sleep for more than a few minutes at a time with the desperate way his body craved activity...

Didn't change the fact that here and now, for once, he was very actively expecting company. It was thrilling enough to have someone his age out and about at this ridiculous hour into the night, but to be playing some pseudo chase with _Nightwing _of Gotham City? That was just too crazy for any kid to pass up on! That guy was a celebrity. Sorta. Okay, for all the wrong reasons. But he was a _celebrity! _At _that _age, too. And this celebrity was interested _in him._ '_Kid Flash'_. Up-and-coming super speedster extraordinaire. It had to be that. He'd been looking right down _at him _from that roof - kinda sloppy for a supposed stealth expert if you asked him- just as Wally'd been playing hop-scotch along the roofs of the parked cars along the sidewalk for the fourth time.

Climbing the steps to the Museum, Wally pulled the yellow bandana down from around his lower face so that it fell once more around his neck, putting a hand to his now bared chin and pulling a thoughtful face as he contemplated his situation's context. Throwing another glance back down the steps to the street, he turned to the fore again just as he reached the top in order to stare right over Nightwing's hair at the museum door. ... Right over Nightwing's hair. The kid speedster gasped sharply and withdrew in horror as his gaze angled lower to meet with the eyelets of Nightwing's mask. The vigilante's expression quickly curved into a broad, mischievous smile and a string of light laughter echoed from his parted lips. It was the creepiest thing Wally had ever heard. And yet, as a naturally infectious social interaction, even amongst his halting breaths, the speedster let out an instinctive childish snort and nervous giggle at having been 'caught out' like that. For a second, it was just playing hide-and-seek with someone his age in the biggest playground ever. Thinking like this, he immediately felt better. ... He preferred to think like that...

"H-how do you _do _that?"

Wally asked breathlessly, once again without any regular adult's reservation, and still heaving in his recovery from the initial fright. There was a sense of fear, curiosity, and _admiration _bungled into one delivery, a delivery that he wore with a still yet unsure and nervous smile on his face. But he couldn't run. He didn't _want _to run. Not yet. Not right now...

The first answer he got was just more audible amusement, and for an extended moment he began wondering whether he was going to receive any more words from him that night at all. But soon enough, the younger boy straightened and directed an odd smile in his direction. The voice that followed dripped with a sense of someone who had been entertained to satisfaction. It made Wally's heart race further with that same cheap thrill again, the warning kind tending to a survival instinct such as that experienced by a mouse as it meets eyes with an as-of-yet motionless adder.

"Practice."

A pause.

"I won. What do I get?"

The question is barely serious, judging how the corners of the youth's mouth twitched higher ever so slightly in their smile. Nevertheless, Wally's age-appropriate petulant nature quickly got the best of him and his competitive nature blurted out an automated response, the start of which had clearly been said before in situations preceding this night.

"N-No you didn't! _I_ got here first! I was waiting down there for like five whole minutes!"

... _Nightwing _leaned to the side and looked past the elder child, down the steps to the plateau where Wally had been waiting just earlier. An eyebrow must have arched under that mask, because his tone was 'innocently' inquisitive.

"I don't see a museum down there."

The Nebraskan teenager opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by another smug remark.

"The finish line was the museum. This building is the museum. I got to the museum first."

_Oooooooo~, _that was one annoying grin the kid was wearing right now. But it seemed all Wally could do in reply was start sentences, point fingers and gesture in the air grasping for words, making faces before giving up and huffing in that childish manner of admitting defeat when one _reeeaaallllly _didn't want to. Looking to one side and tapping his foot again out of what he assumed was his mood, he scowled moodily and decided to make this kid feel bad about winning.

"Fine. But now I'm not gonna show you the cool dinosaur they have in there."

The kid didn't seem all that bothered. Shrugging one shoulder and speaking idly.

"I've seen some pretty cool dinosaurs..."

Wally's attention snapped back to the fore as he took this as yet another childish competitive challenge he had to rise to. Like heck the dinosaurs he'd seen were cooler than the ones in this museum! Putting his hands authoritatively on his hips, he leaned forward and over the other boy slightly, raising his voice.

"Th-the ones in here are cooler!"

He insisted impudently. 'Nightwing' took slightly longer to respond, in fact it seemed he had to actively relax first, and Wally only just belatedly caught that gloved hand retracting from somewhere around the kid's hip. The big city boy issued a chuckle and took a step back from the suburban settler, shifting to one side and gesturing towards the museum with his left hand. The smirk he wore seemed a nigh permanent fixture upon his face.

"Prove it."

. - . - .

The two boys spent the next three hours trespassing within the empty halls of Central City's grand museum. Wally had skirted inside here to mess around at night before, but all his previous safety methods were cut short by some technological thingies the visitor had in his gloves that he used to just shut down every security measure imaginable, including many Wally didn't even know _existed_. He even sealed the door to the security guard's office, after offlining her communicators, landline and mobile phones through an array of remote signal jamming, wire sabotage and forced electrical shutdowns. The museum was theirs. In blind exuberant delight, the thirteen year old speedster had whooped and run laps throughout the complex, adventuring in advance for what exhibits he could show off with most confidence to the visitor of his ever-so-humble city.

They played with the interactive exhibits and left them in a state. They put on some of the mannequins' costumes and ran around in them. They invaded the gift shop and lay amongst the stuffed dinosaurs whilst reading out various 'fun facts' about sea creatures they found funny or weird or dumb. It was Wally's idea every time, his companion seemed to just go along with whatever he decided, seemingly more interested with what his tour guide wanted to do instead. He wasn't just a mindless follower though; he was really, really smart. Maybe even smarter than him... This is one thing Wally West was able to learn about this 'Boy Soldier'. At the section focusing on organic evolution, Wally had started talking about Charles Darwin in advance to inform his younger accomplice, only for the other boy to ask him with interest on whether he's also read passages from On the Origin of Species. Expecting to be the teacher due to the gap between their ages, the speedster repeatedly found himself instead the pupil.

The majority of their time spent was, however, spent with the dinosaur exhibits. Despite the admission of the other boy- er, _Nightwing-_ that the animatronic T-Rex model here was a bit bigger than the one he was familiar with, apparently it still lost in 'coolness' simply because it lacked as many teeth. Apparently. This then led into an argument over what constituted as 'coolness' in a T-Rex, physical size or available weaponry. Being two boys inching around their 'tween' phase, naturally no conclusion was reached to any degree of satisfaction. Instead it was decided that the pterodactyls hanging from the ceiling would make awesome stepping stones in a game where if you fell off one of them you drowned in a pit of imaginary lava below. The fact they made it from one end of the room to another successfully was, in fact, 'a miracle' and a party was thus held in their name and honor. Apparently. A few more active games involving the exhibits and arguments about the best dinosaur later, a dim light began to peek into the large hall through the shuttered windows all around them.

Time to go.

Making it outside once more just fine, it was made clear to the pair that dawn was rapidly approaching, and that the gaudy parrot that was Central City (... apparently.) would now be ruffling its feathers in preparation for the new day. It seemed neither of them had any plans for sticking around in the open any longer, this was made evident through their tones towards each other in the ensuing few moments. Whilst Wally grew more nervous and evasive once more as his brain finally caught up with what he'd actually been doing and _with whom _he had been doing it this entire time, the visitor from the East Coast only seemed to smile oddly with some degree of ample satisfaction, speaking in tones of a more sly ease than before. It unnerved him. Again.

"That was fun."

... Nightwing had said.

"Y-yeah, um..." Wally scuffed one foot restlessly behind the other and avoided eye contact with the other boy, looking instead over to his right for no real reason other than apparent sudden interest in the opposing building. "See you..." His gaze dared amidst hesitation to flit back to the fore again.

Nothing.

"... Later...?"

In utter confusion, the young delinquent looked around himself, turned, turned again, and yet saw and heard nothing of the other boy anywhere. Thinking it maybe one last run of their games, he made sure to rush through the whole area and perimeter around the entire museum. Completely empty. The other boy evidently didn't want to be found this time... The realization only just occurred to him, in such a way that his mind panicked in immediate denial. Earlier, he had turned in the streets and seen a flutter of dull gold lining and a glimpse of crimson armor atop a nearby roof, kinda sloppy for a supposed stealth expert if you'd asked him. He'd prided himself on this 'discovery' and approached the newcomer with a brazen urge to display his own self-created merits. ... No... If he could really just _disappear _like that at will then... That boy had _wanted _him to see him then. What had _that _all been then? Had this whole night just been some kind of _evaluation_, or, or _measuring _process for, for...

... ... For what...

Wally's legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed into a careless, slumped sit upon the stairs to the Museum. Mind numbed with a crash of thoughts and possibilities that thirteen year olds shouldn't be thinking of, his brow grew heavy and he looked out to the street in front of him with a weighted, dulled expression.

That kid had been Nightwing, Boy Soldier of Gotham City.

A hunter of criminals…

And he had been followed by him.

* * *

A/N: Sure has been a while since I uploaded something, huh. And what a thing to come back with!

This entire story is part of a much larger project between a friend of mine and myself entitled 'Inverse'. It's an alternate universe for the DCU that holds the essential premise that, by only tweaking certain events and circumstances in the origins of the various DC heroes and villains, their 'good' and 'evil' alignments could hypothetically 'invert' into the opposite status. Thus, the heroes are now the villains, and the villains are now the heroes. Though my friend and I have discussed in great detail the state of many other figures and realms of the DCU, naturally here I'm only focusing on a little corner of the DC world, with simply glimpses and hints towards the wider universe throughout the story.

The details of both Wally and Dick's 'tweaked' origins aren't dealt with in this story, rather those extensive and delicately handled tales will be written out into their own stories that may eventually published on here at some point. Thus the intricate explanations of things such as how Dick's costume name is now 'Nightwing' at the outset I'm afraid will have to wait for later revelation. The essentials of their slightly altered backgrounds that result in this state of affairs consider such factors as home life and the nature of the Speed Force for Wally (the latter of which is heavily implied throughout this story), and the influence of Bruce Wayne and an alternate choice in a canon crossroads event in his origin for Dick. Unfortunately much must be left to your imagination for the moment, as this story is primarily centered upon the meeting and interaction between these two in this universe, and a study into how even under such circumstances they might still become 'friends'.

If any of you lot are on Tumblr and are curious at all, a further explanation is available on my friend's blog, which I can link you to at any time. There will probably be some new stuff published within this universe between the two of us, anyway. But yeah, for now, enjoy the ride! =)


	2. Enlightenment

Wally didn't sleep that night. Nor the next, nor the one after that. He had been having trouble sleeping ever since the night of the experiment earlier this year; that... _that _he was used to. But even then he'd been able to grab a few minutes of dozing at a time whenever he snuck back into Aunt Iris' guest room and collapsed on the bed there. In the nights following that meeting however, he just found himself staring at the ceiling, wide awake with his mind whirring incessantly over those memories. Tossing and turning, he didn't seem to find any repose with the background knowledge that he could have died, been _killed_, a thousand times in just that passing few hours with that boy. What if he'd made one wrong step. What if he'd said something bad. What if he changed his mind and came _back_ and- and- killed him in his sleep. What if what if what if. His heart raced and his blood pounded with fright every time he recalled and dwelled on that fact.

It took him a whole week to get any proper shut-eye again. Well, his average handfuls of minutes at a time over inconsistent periods. Another week without particular incident and he was somewhat back on track with his usual 'schedule. Exploits in irritating the general public and police through running amok whenever and wherever his speed drove him to do so. Trying to avoid Uncle Barry, who would restlessly attempt to curtail his behavior at every turn. Sometimes he would pause in a run however, just to look around the surrounding rooftops. Just to be sure... ... A handful more weeks had passed by, and he had almost entirely forgotten those few hours. Maybe not forgotten, more 'deliberately pushed onto the backburner' in the recesses of his mind. Naturally he had no expectation of seeing that kid again, feeling as though he had passed some 'criminal-hunting' test of theirs and so been passed over by their lust for vengeful justice. A part of him even wanted to question whether that night had even happened at all... Best thing was just to get back to doing what he did, and move on...

Though he told himself this, it was getting significantly harder to just 'do what he did'. With two and a half years under their belt, 'Captain Cold' and his band had started getting really organized. Centralized. They took nightshifts regularly now, increasingly fanning out as far as into the city's further reaches. Wally's usual routes and roundabouts were steadily cornered off and rerouted until he'd hit into an area where another one of them tended to patrol. Every passing night he felt more and more boxed in, feeling the noose tighten around his excursions and only barely slipping the knot each and every time. Uncle Barry had been trying to nab him and his attention for a while again now, seemingly more persistent than ever that Wally _stop _even just for a few minutes so they could seriously talk things through. But he couldn't stop. Barry didn't get it. Why didn't he get it? He- He should know better than anyone.

He. _Couldn't_. Stop. Even slowing down was such a mentally abhorrent thought to him. These increasing restrictions and patrols of the area had led to Wally spending more time hiding whilst out on a run. He left for them later, ran back to Iris' earlier. He couldn't run enough at this rate, _do _enough anymore. Do enough to offset the haunting nausea that his merciless nerves and excess energy would compound upon and torture him with. Even now, in the midst of his current midnight escapade in another residential district, he found himself pausing every now and then to collapse against a nearby car or bench just to pant, shudder violently and dry retch from the screaming harangue for activity. He needed to get rid of it. He had to get rid of it. That feeling of forever and ever mounting energy racking his limbs until they felt like watery appendages that no longer held any meaning other than to hang there and shake uselessly. The aspiring scientist in this thirteen year old logically chatted in his ear about how he just needed to do something that'd give him another natural boost of epinephrine. There had to be something he could do, even in this constricting situation.

Maybe he could start running outside the city? No, no no, he- he didn't know anywhere outside of Central City, other than maybe bits of Keystone City and the route back to Blue Valley, Nebraska. A route which he wasn't ever, ever planning on taking again after the one time he had managed it in order to get here in the first place.

Maybe he could start running in the daytime more? No, that wouldn't work either. Both The Flash and the 'Rogues' were more active whilst the sun was up. Police, and people... He had no made up identity to hide behind. Not 'properly' at least. The papers called him 'Kid Flash' from the glimpses caught of him, his powers and shirt on CCTV and by the odd cop or two. But he didn't have a costume or anything in case they caught him, and he didn't really want everyone knowing who he was. They'd... they'd come after him at Aunt Iris' and lock him up somewhere...

The mere thought of that worsened his shakes and he crumpled further against the side of the latest car he had draped himself over, his legs were vibrating so much that they numbed and began failing to support the rest of his body. At this rate, he was going to spend the night hurling into a public toilet in some building again. Cool. Awesome. His _favorite _thing. Another dry retch racked his body and he instinctively brought a hand over his mouth to muffle the horrible sound. Yeah, it was going to be one of those nights... Eventually, he withdrew his hand and pulled the bandana around his face down, just so he could get a proper breath of fresh air. Dizzy with nausea and stumbling due to his out-of-control motor nerves, he turned and made a step to leg it at full speed to the nearest facility; the town hall. He was barely pressing weight upon his heel when an absolute electrifying chill shot up his spine at the command of a very certain voice.

"I wouldn't go that way if I were you."

Wally whipped around and focused his eyes upwards to an overhead lamppost. He had imagined that. Surely. No way, no _way _was that kid back. But to his incredibly mixed feelings, there he was, lying on his side along the top of it and propping his head up idly with one gloved hand. He looked just as he did last time, even down to the exact same coyly amused smile that he was currently directing down at him. This kid. Really? At a time like this? Couldn't he see he was suffering? What a _jerk! _Oh wait, wait wait wait, guns, guns, knives, psychopathic 5th grade murderer from the School of Hell, remember. Keep your trap shut and try not to get killed, just like last time, wait no last time wasn't a good example of-

"What's _that _supposed to mean?"

No stupid mouth no!

That is the exact opposite of what you were supposed to do!

... Apparently he really just couldn't help his youthfully obnoxious manner of speech; an impediment only augmented by the onset of puberty, no doubt. There was no retracting that tone or statement, so Wally rapidly attempted to convert it into a false display of bravado in front of this boy. Turning around completely he swapped 'collapsed against car' for 'coolly leaning back against car', with arms folded, for extra coolness. His back slipped under the surface initially so that he almost face-faulted before he regained himself and hastily adopted that pose again. Naturally the look on- _Nightwing_'s face told of how the other boy was evidently finding this all pricelessly entertaining. Dumb. Stupid. Watching him like this. Again. Making him feel so on edge, he could feel his body responding to the potential threat with a tension that worked off his excess energy and cooled him in preparation for any sudden movement. The other boy didn't move, but the danger remained clear and present. Instead, Nightwing tipped his head slightly and seemed to indicate further down the road in the process, to where Wally would have been headed.

"Doesn't '_Mirror Master' _tend to patrol the center district on weekends between 11 and 3?"

Wally opened his mouth to reply, but actually had nothing to say, and so simply closed it again. He was... right. Come to think of it. It was a Saturday, it was sometime after midnight, and the town hall was right in the middle of the City Center, and he'd glimpsed Mirror Master around there just last weekend but... But how the heck did _he _know that, and more so realize it was some kind of scheduled repeated pattern? Thoughts and theories began flooding into his head as he threw his gaze back up to meet that of his younger acquaintance, who currently held the quietly confident air of one who was waiting to be told he was right. Ugh, he didn't have time for this right now! He wasn't feeling well and-...

"You weren't looking so good, so I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, it'd be sad if your 'not getting caught' streak stopped this far in. You were doing so well."

He was doing it again. That tone of voice, that expression on his face; as if he knew everything that was going to happen ten steps ahead of you and already knew what had occurred a hundred steps back. That sense that he was only letting out as much of all that as he deemed to let you know for the time being, because it was... _funny _to watch him squirm in ignorance, or something... So, _so _unnerving... 'Kid Flash' had lifted slightly from the car and straightened, eyes fixed and unblinking upon the other figure up there. He felt as though if he dared blink, it would disappear. Plucking up a little courage and really kind of annoyed at his whole present attitude, as well as the implications of last time, Wally took in a deep breath and tightened the fold of his arms across his small chest.

"What do you _want_, why are you... why are you all the way over _here_. I _know _who you are."

He probably sounded, and came across, more bratty and resentful than he had meant to. He-... He was terrified to admit it, but... forgetting everything about who the other kid really was, that time they'd spent kicking around the museum had been... fun. Really fun, actually. But this time he did want at least some answers. Answers to the questions he'd 'forgotten' to ask last time. Chalk most of it up to natural curiosity. Once upon a time Wally West had been a small kid who lived in a small world. But over the beginning of this year he had learned his favorite Uncle figure was The Flash, stolen his notes and recreated the experiment, ran away from home all the way here to Aunt Iris' with his newfound super speed, played a constant cocky evasion game with almost everyone in Central City... and been stalked by one of the most famous bloodletting vigilantes in the world. The rest he had understood... He now wanted to understand this, too.

Nightwing, to his genuine surprise, acquiesced.

Sort of.

"... Beat me to the fifth oak tree forty steps north from the west bank of the eastern-most lake in the park adjacent to the rundown cinema at the edge of the financial district."

Wally was still repeating and drilling that deliberately convoluted information into his own memory by the time he focused again in time to see the flutter of dull gold lining somewhere in his peripheral vision. So, this game again? And with _him _calling the finish line this time? He immediately saw what that Boy Soldier was up to. The commercial district of New Brighton was on the other side of the town; the fastest way to it would be through the City Center. Trying to call chicken on the fearsomely fast, spectacularly speedy 'Kid Flash' huh. Oh, it was so _on_. Pulling up his yellow bandana over his mouth and nose, his heart skipped a beat in the eager rush of anticipation before he kicked off the cement under his sneakers.

The world around him peeled away into a gorgeous veil of muted colors and dazzling lights, his mind tumbling along a delightful highway of mental mapping and route planning to figure out the fastest way to that particular park across from that one old abandoned cinema. The satisfying rapid fire chains of information cooled his overheated nerves, the urgency and pressure of the situation lovingly soothing to the rabid call of his restless limbs. The taller buildings of the center district began flashing by as ghosts of an irrelevant outer world that only padded the periphery of his current goal. His objective. One that he had to reach at all costs, to satisfy his own unabating curiosity. The small patch of open ground up ahead of him denoted the town hall, but it was left behind out of his sight before his mind could even begin to care. His vision flitted constantly left and right for any visual sign any of his Uncle's adversarial acquaintances, his heart running upon the thrill drawn out by every passing second he moved without attempted outside intervention.

The taller buildings stripped away and the blotch of night sky returned to the haze of his vision; out of the center district, small interlude of shopping district before financial. People on the main street; left alley, right, left, right, forward, forward, left, forward. The crest of buildings returned to the outskirts of his view, detailing the financial district only in the hollow silhouettes of office establishments. He picked up the pace and pressed it to his limit, much like anyone does when they start seeing the finish line in their sights. Or in a speedster's case, when they know they're within only a few blocks before they reach their target. A purring crackle of lightning around his limbs encouraged his hurry. Only seconds pass before he whirrs in a curve past the abandoned cinema and sets foot into the park. Another handful of seconds and he's circling the easternmost lake around to its compact west bank. Oak tree, forty steps north. His mental counter clicks just as fast as his footfalls and he skids to a rough, stumbling halt as it reaches 'forty'. Doubled over and breathing heavily from the more than ample stretch of his previously cramped up legs, he ushers a satisfied grin upon his face as he begins to right himself. No way, no frickin' _way _he got beat this time. He couldn't _wait _to see the face of that kid when he arrived and saw that he was already at this dumb...

Tree?

There was-. Okay there was no tree here. Actually there was one a bit over there, but his latest Biology readings told him that was definitely no oak tree. How many oak trees had he passed? He'd just done the forty steps part and expected... Retrace steps first. Okay, back at the west bank. This was definitely the west bank of this lake, check. But just in case, see where forty steps from it takes you in each direction, shouldn't take long. A few minutes doing that... This was definitely the easternmost lake of this park, well yeah he'd been here quite a few times. But it wouldn't hurt to check... A minute or two spent making sure it was the easternmost lake. This was the only park around the abandoned cinema? A handful of minutes running around the whole area, check check. And this was definitely, definitely the financial area... A quick run to where all the buildings were and peering into their windows, yeah yeah. Okay back to that park, and that lake... Wally retraced his forty steps from the west bank. And again. Then altered the angle of his direction slightly each time. Had he misheard? Maybe it was thirty... or fifty... Each tried. Where was the _nearest _oak tree, then, and he'd just follow the oak trees until the fifth one. Aw crap, at this rate the kid would have just left and he'd have lost and never know anything about all this. C'mon, c'mon c'mon oak trees~.

It was upon his fruitless search for an oak tree off the southern bank of the lake that he literally jumped and half-tripped in step as a light, devilish cackle echoed suddenly about him. _J-Jeez_, did he _have _to do that? And where was he anyway... Wally began to wander around the area, peeking around trees and into bushes. The laughing continued, but such was its dissonance that he simply could not tell where it was coming from. That, or 'it' was moving at the same time. Alright, enough was enough!

"H-hey! Come on, stop it! Where are you...?"

...

"_Up here_."

For the fourth time since he had met him, Wally's heart screamed and his skeleton wanted to jump out of his body and run bare down the street and away forever. Twisting around and craning his neck upwards upon instant as he staggered back, bandana once again slumping awkwardly down around his neck due to the motion, he saw Nightwing lying on his back along one of the thick branches of an elm tree that had just been right behind him. The kid had his hands underneath his head as a pillow, and was currently failing to contain a second bout of terribly amused cackles. The growing speedster felt his own cheeks flush with embarrassment, and he took a step forward and clenched his fists stubbornly at his sides.

"Sh-shut up! It's not funny...! And this isn't an oak tree! It's an _elm_, stupid."

...

Did he just call _Nightwing_ 'stupid'?

The Laughing Young Devil only continued laughing, swinging himself off the branch and taking a few paces near his older companion. As his humor finally died down enough for speech to be coherent, he placed a gloved hand idly on his hip, one thumb resting against the hilt of that... big... knife... he had hanging off his belt. Gesturing with the other hand and tilting his head to one side for just a second, he eased the conversation with a trickster's smile.

"Well yeah~, that's because there aren't any oak trees planted in this park, _stupid._"

The Gotham City visitor ceased gesturing with his hand, allowing it to drop as he walked right past Wally towards the lake, the smile never faltering upon his face.

"It was pretty funny watching you look for one though."

...

Wally decided, there and then, to give up getting mad at him. Every time he did he just somehow ended up losing again. And he didn't like losing. Nobody did, he was pretty sure. This was something of a hopeless cause, an 'uphill battle'. And in the end, arguing with this kid wasn't what he was here for. He was here for... He was here for some answers. For one.

A quiet moment passed in which Nightwing approached the lake's shore and squatted in front of the water mass, watching something in its inky surface as Wally simply watched him in turn. In the silence that continued, the dark haired boy picked up a nearby stone from by his feet and turned it over in his hand a few times, regarding it with an expression his present company couldn't quite read or define... Drawing in a breath and sighing it in order to help relax himself, Wally steeled himself once more and slowly approached the other boy until he came to a stop only a few steps behind him. Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to ask-

"Don't stand behind me."

Nightwing mentioned offhandedly, still turning the pebble in his hand with absent interest and having not shown any visible signs of discomfort otherwise. This disconnect between the nature of the statement and Nightwing's casual behavior about it set a strand of uncomprehending fear in Wally's young heart again, but he quickly took two steps to his right and swallowed that sentiment for flight for now. No, no he was going to stay until he had learned what he had come to learn... He took a step forward, then another, and another until he was standing just two steps _beside _Nightwing instead. ... Nope, he was apparently fine with that... Okay... The Scarlet Speedster's would-be apprentice gave it another moment or two of silence for the previous slight to be mostly forgotten, before he bravely pressed on again.

"_So_... ... Um... You gonna... tell me why you're here? ... You... You live in Gotham City, right...?"

A prolonged social miasma infiltrated the atmosphere once more, and Wally began to wonder whether he'd been too fast with his questions. Too eager. Too _forward_. And whether- whether he was going to pay for them. Even having spent a matter of hours with this kid, alone, and having returned just fine... he couldn't-... He couldn't stop being scared. The name, the reputation, the _stories_... Anyone who watched the news enough anywhere in the country knew about them. And here he was. Standing two feet away from the younger one. It was... exhilarating, to say the least. And he couldn't get away from this feeling. Didn't... Didn't _want _to get away from it. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know _why_. He had so many questions, and somewhere, far in the recesses of his mind, he was wondering if it was alright that he even had those questions... And that he was willing to prolong these interactions, just so he could hear the answers. Answers that nobody else in the world may ever hear...

...

"Curious."

Wally was honestly surprised to hear the other boy's voice again in any response.

"H-huh?"

Nightwing finally ceased turning the rock over in his right hand, and instead looked out over the lake and tossed it carelessly into its black surface, causing ripples to spill outwards from the epicenter of impact and slink their way quietly across the water in all directions.

"I'm curious."

The stranger seemed to say no more, his line of sight still locked on where he had thrown the pebble and where its aftermath continued to gently agitate the murky surface. Wally once again allowed a good few seconds to pass in case of elaboration, but there was nothing. Shifting his stance and grinding his foot quietly into the ground to ease off building nerves, he folded his arms again and looked to the rocky lake shoreline beneath his shoes.

"About...?"

Pause.

... Too far?

"People."

... Evidently not. But that answer wasn't as satisfying as Wally West had been hoping for. He waited for either the punchline of the joke, or the ensuing silence that would inevitably ensue. To his surprise once more, neither of these happened.

"Like us. ... People like us."

Nightwing had followed up in a patient tone, running his gloved fingers across the small rocks underneath his squatting feet and finding another one that was larger than the rest. He promptly picked it up and began inspecting it as well. Wally had ceased noticing this venture in particular, consciously at least, as his mind turned with a piqued intrigue on where this conversation could be headed. He'd gotten this far, he felt like he may as well see how far he could... See how much he could learn...

"Like... us?"

Kids? Kids who get up to no good? Err...

" 'Capes'."

There was another pause, and Nightwing averted his attention from the rock to direct his expectant expression up to Wally's face instead. When there was still no response or visible sign of recognition, he elaborated in speech whilst turning his attention back to the pebble.

"'Heroes', 'Good guys'. ... 'Bad guys'. ... The ones that wear masks..."

Nightwing tilted his head slightly back in Wally's direction, and indicated with a finger from the hand holding the rock, pointing towards the canary yellow bandana that still adorned the speedster's neck. Wally put a hand to it instinctively, as if to confirm that that was what Nightwing was indicating. That Nightwing simply averted his gaze and attention again seemed to confirm this was the case. That was right, wasn't it... He was also, now, even in the most mediocre and unknown ways... 'one of _them_'. The thought seemed so weird. So wrong. So alien to him. Is this what constituted being part of that so far away world of masks, costumes and fighting? But, no... His 'mask'? He was just wearing this bandana he found because he didn't want to be recognized by anyone when running around, it'd be annoying... His 'costume'? This was all just from his wardrobe! He just, painted the yellow lightning bolt on his shirt because he... Because he still loves his Uncle, no matter what... 'Fighting'? He didn't fight anyone! He just... ran away from the police... a lot... ... But he _had _to. He... he _had _to...

The realization seemed to weigh heavily upon his shoulders. Actually, he hadn't... really intended to join in all of this when he'd started out. When he'd conducted that experiment, that was probably the very last thing he had thought to consider... Maybe on some days he acted like he had boldly entered this colorful and exciting world, and boasted to himself in mirrors that he would become the most famous of them all, all with that far too young bravado and eagerness for adventure without heed to the dangers and implications of everything... But in reality, he'd thrown himself headfirst into this world without even thinking of anything beyond his own satisfaction. By giving himself this 'super speed' to escape his own personal problems... This power that drove him to do reckless, head-over-heels exhilarating things he would never even considered as the shy introverted boy he was before...

Even if he wanted to, there was no way to get rid of these powers now. They had fundamentally become a part of him. Uncle Barry had been trying all this time, was still _searching _for a way to reverse or even just _control _it, and if he couldn't figure out a way then...He was already attracting attention to himself from all over the place, the warning signs had already been waved by before he had even noticed they were there. The newspapers had given him a name. The city's heroes were now actively pursuing him. By his own volition, he had been wearing the city's primary... primary..._ 'bad guy'_... ... been wearing that symbol this whole time. But, Uncle Barry wasn't _bad_, he wasn't. He was just- like him, he was just...

The world felt small again. Far, far too small. Claustrophobic and uncomfortable, and all Wally wanted to do was run home to Aunt Iris and curl up on her bed and have her tell him it'd all be okay. But... But then he'd have to admit to her that he was 'that kid' who had been doing all that stuff and... Would she hate him if he were a... a 'bad guy'? But he wasn't... He wasn't a bad guy... He wasn't...

Wally felt alone.

He sank to a sitting position upon the lake shoreline and stared out across the lake looking at nothing in particular. He could practically feel Nightwing watching him out of the corner of that mask of his, but he didn't have much to say to back him right now. As if somehow aware that this silence from Wally might be more enduring than his previous talkative nature would have allowed, Nightwing simply tossed the second rock into the water and watched it affect the world around it.

. - . - .

Some time passed in which neither of them spoke a word to each other. Nightwing continued to squat at the lake's edge and throw the occasional rock into the water, whilst Wally stared dully out over the watery surface and allowed his mind to wallow and drown beneath its own woes. His thoughts had long since echoed along various strands and wondered absently about a great many things, even things beyond the tentative situation of his life, a realization he had only just fully gained and comprehended. He thought about things he hadn't really thought about before, but probably should have... What he realized he _couldn't _accept was that people thought Uncle Barry was a bad person. A 'bad guy'. It wasn't that simple for him... Or himself... It was more... more complicated than just that.

Wally remembered his current company, and his questions began to shift in subject...

"... Why?"

Nightwing looked across at him in response to his syllable, awaiting the elaboration.

"... Why do you... ... ... You know..."

The black haired boy was still staring at him... It was making him feel awkward. But not nearly or ever as awkward as what he was trying to ask him right now...

"Do... the things you do..."

...

"I do lots of things."

Nightwing replied matter-of-factly. There was the slightest movement at the corner of his mouth as he said it. Was he... even _now_...?

"C-come on, you know what I mean..."

...

Nope, he was going to make him say it. Was doing it on purpose, that twitch had said it all.

This kid...

"Why do you... kill... people..."

"Criminals."

Nightwing corrected with audible agitation, looking out across the lake and frowning sharply, as though Wally had deeply offended him. The speedster in question hastily retraced his steps and corrected himself, not wanting to lose his chances at hearing something, _anything_, that could ratify his own self-justifications.

"Cr-criminals. Sorry, the uh, the guys on the news can get mixed up a lot... ..."

He tried again.

"Why do you... kill criminals...?"

There was a long silence, and once again Wally began to doubt whether he would ever be answered on this one. Though the Boy Soldier apparently never ceased to surprise him, because he did eventually answer. The teenager hadn't known what to expect, but what he was given stunned him into a deeply thoughtful silence.

"Because they're the bad guys."

... But. That wasn't right, was it...? Weren't The Dark Knight and Nightwing the 'bad guys' of Gotham City? That's what he'd heard these past few years... The Joker, Deuce and Scarecrow and guys were definitely the designated 'heroes' there, but he knew those guys fought with 'the Deadly Duo' almost all the time. Since those two murdered and acted in complete defiance of the law, they were 'the bad guys'. But... ... The way in which Nightwing had said 'bad guys'... It sounded like he wasn't talking about _people _any more. It sounded like he was talking about-... He may as well have said-...

'Monsters'.

...

"If the bad people aren't there any more... then they won't hurt anyone ever again."

...

"That makes... sense..."

It did. Didn't it? Where did you even begin to draw the line for these things... He didn't think-. He _knew_, Uncle Barry and himself were good people. Everyone called them bad and thought them bad, but they only did what they _had _to in order to stave off what their condition demanded. Barry Allen was a _good _man. ... If The Dark Knight and Nightwing only killed the bad guys, the _really _bad guys, the... 'monsters'... so that they wouldn't hurt anyone else, anyone _good_ and innocent, then that still wasn't entirely... _bad _of them_, _was it? ... Honestly, Wally West just wasn't all that sure any more...

Heaving a heavy sigh, Wally picked up a pebble by his side, contemplated it only briefly before looking to the fore and flicking his arm and wrist with such an artful snap that the stone was sent skipping multiple times across the lake's surface. A small wistful smile formed across his face as he watched the miniscule waves form and collapse from each impact. Still had it... Looking out to the lake, he heard something next to him and soon saw another stone head towards the surface... and promptly plunge unceremoniously below its surface in one mournful _'sploosh'. _Eyebrows raised, Wally slowly looked to his side just in time to see Nightwing's face fall with visible disappointment. After a few seconds of digesting all of this, he promptly snorted and could barely resist asking.

"W-was that you trying to skip a stone?"

No answer; just a deeper frown.

Wally burst out laughing before he could even think of stopping himself.

There was a good handful of seconds of Nightwing just frowning morosely at where the stone had sunk and Wally practically capsizing in his sitting position from the bouts of laughter attacking his being. Everything was hysterical, and for some blessed moments he just forgot. About everything. All those problems, all those worries, all these masks and morals... Wiping his eyes and trying to learn how to breathe again, Wally wound down and grinned good-naturedly across at the younger boy, his voice was now lifted with the air of someone who was absolutely at ease. Relaxed, amused, and entirely casual.

"_Ho man~_, there is no way I'm letting you leave without learning how to skip a stone. Here, stand up."

He got to his feet and turned to face the other child, ushering upwards with his arms as his would-be pupil seemed to hesitate at first.

"Come on, come on~."

Wally encouraged energetically as Nightwing took his time getting to his feet. The larger hands belonging to the speedster instinctively reached out to the other's back and closest arm in order to take hold and help pull him up, but as though recalling something, the fingers flexed and the open palms curled back instead and returned to simply gesturing in an upwards motion. Once his younger company had straightened and given him that expectant look, Wally pointed down to the lake shoreline below them and leant over, knocking some rocks aside and searching through them.

"First, you need a good stone. Round-ish, flat, smooth... One about the size and weight of a tennis ball or something."

He plucked a few specimens of this vague description up from the bank and displayed them one by one to his attentive student. Stuffing the majority of them in his pockets, he kept hold of one and dropped another into Nightwing's hand. He exhibited the next steps by physically demonstrating them.

"Next, you gotta hold the stone between your thumb and middle finger, with your index finger curling around the edge like this. See? ... Make sure the flattest looking side is on the bottom, so that it'll hit the lake."

His rock-tossing apprentice regarded how Wally was holding onto his stone for a brief moment, before attempting somewhat to replicate it with his own gloved right hand. The fabric and armor of the hand accessory was making his particular hold of this small stone somewhat awkward, and as a result it wasn't quite perfect... Wally leaned in and over from an angle as the other boy constantly readjusted his grip along the lines of advice.

"Bit to the left. No no, thumb's fine, index finger there... Yeah... Oop! Hang on, you almost have it... There, now a bit-... You know it'd be easier without the glove... Okay okay, glove doesn't come off... Now a bit-... Here, can I just-...?"

Wally's hands were hovering over Nightwing's right hand, fingers poised cautiously above it and quivering ever-so-slightly at the nervous energy buzzing within his fingertips. This feeling and nervousness he had just for something so simple was tantamount to that of when one prepares to pet a Black Mamba snake on the head. ... Just when and in whatever situation does one prepare to pet a Black Mamba anyway? Wally thought to himself in hindsight. That question alone probably explained a lot right now. Anyway, by the way Nightwing's head dipped slightly, he could tell the other boy had looked at his own hand and then probably back up at Wally. He didn't say anything. Oh. Great. Well his fingers had apparently already decided that that response had been a resounding Yes and were now already prying the small, metallic coated digits around one edge of the stone they had stubbornly been ignoring despite all of Wally's masterful expert advice. As they slid into the perfect hold, the older boy quickly let go and lifted his hands away again, in the manner of one fearful of breaking an expensive china set.

A short quietness descended on them, and nothing happened.

Wally considered the lack of any knives to his chest a success, and seemed to immediately forget all over again who exactly he was talking to. Or rather, he did know, and he had decided that for now, he just didn't care.

"_Perfect~_! Okay, so. Face the water at a bit of an angle... Yeah, like that. And bend your knees slightly, yeah, there we go. Now when you throw it, throw it from your side, low and as close to the water's surface as you can get it. Try and get a spin on it, you get that by sorta flicking your wrist like this as you let it fly. Okay?... ... ... _Ooooohh_, so close! Here, here, try again. Same thing, just make sure you get throw the stone so it's like, really horizontal to the water. Like a straight line across there... ... Yeah, yeah looking good- _Nice! _You got two skips in there! Okay okay try and get four, and then after that, six! I got _nine _once you know, see if you can beat that...! ... _Ahahah! _Not bad, not bad at all. Here, try again...!... ... ~"

. - . - .

Five skips record. Not bad for a beginner. Though much to Wally's amusement, Nightwing was _still _unsatisfied with this result and stubbornly refused to budge from the lake's edge until he had at least gotten to six. This went on to the point where it took another half hour for him to convince the Gothamite that five was genuinely actually a great achievement for someone who'd started at... well, heh, 'sploosh'. What then occurred was a chat about the current world record for stone skipping, then some other world records for other relatively mundane activities and achievements, as well as the obligatory gross ones for any and every pre-teen male conversation.

Some laughs and idle talk later, it eventually became clear to Wally that Nightwing had somewhere else to be. At least, judging by the way he would allow the latest conversations to trail off to an end, and how he was now shifting weight from one foot to the other as if pressed for time. Being an honestly polite kid at heart, the speedster pushed the notion.

"Am... Am I making you late for something...?"

Nightwing appeared mildly surprised and seemed to focus again on conversation from wherever his mind had just been wandering to.

"Hn? Oh, no. ... It's not like I have a curfew or anything, right?"

A slight incline of his head as he smirked in good humor. It certainly earned an extended chuckle from Wally, at least. Though he cut it short when Nightwing continued to speak, looking off to one side absently as he did so.

"But I should probably go soon. Stuff to do."

A slight pause, in which Wally was about to say something-

"You should run around the block. A lot."

"H-_huh_?"

Wally stuttered instead. He was probably- no, _definitely_- the fastest kid in the whole entire world... And yet he just could _not _keep up with this boy and his Japanese bullet trains of thought. What was he-...

"See how many laps you can do in a set of minutes... Try and beat it each time. Give yourself a purpose, some kinda challenge like that until you run it out of your system..."

Nightwing turned to face him once more.

"... Might make you feel better."

Was he talking about-...? But how had he already-... Instead of managing to compose himself enough to voice any of these questions, Wally could only utter amidst his lingering surprise.

"Um... Th-thanks... I guess..."

A scheming smile was offered in return. And just as it seemed as though a nervous, odd moment might descend between them, Nightwing broke it with a casual statement that sounded seemed vaguely familiar.

"Well. That was fun."

"Heh, yeah... Hey, um..."

Wally averted his gaze shyly and looked back to the lake for no real reason other than to momentarily avoid gruelling eye contact with the younger kid, just whilst he said this next part. It was... It was embarrassing, okay! G-guys his age don't usually ask these kinds of kiddie things anymore. Not to mention to people who looked a couple of grades younger than _him_.

"Are you... going to be around again anyt-"

He looked back where Nightwing was...

supposed to be.

Gone.

Again.

This time, Wally didn't even bother to search the area for him. Groaning in exasperation, he ran his two hands through the ginger fuzz of hair atop his head and let them slide slowly down the sides of his face, dragging his freckled cheeks into a comically frustrated expression. That kid... He could now legitimately conclude with absolute justification that he hated it when he did that. ... Oh well. He was gone now, and that was the end of that. For now, at least. Although, he wished that the other boy had at least answered his half-formed question in some manner or way before he vanished again...

Before tonight, he hadn't expected on seeing Nightwing again. Now...? He just wasn't sure. It was completely out of his hands. But this time, he didn't think he'd mind it so much if he did...


	3. Sport

Wally tried out Nightwing's advice. Every night, when he found he couldn't offset that excess energy rattling throughout his muscles, he would find a safe area and simply lap the buildings in it over and over again. He would count up how many laps he could make under set amounts of time, and then try to beat the record each time. A more recently nurtured competitive nature churned his raw energy further into a propulsive force that only pushed him closer to his limits and satisfaction. This could go on for hours at a time, but he was more than willing to do it if it meant a way he could stretch his legs enough to even approach that day's quota. It was still hard enough finding definitely 'safe' areas away from prying eyes or, even worse, prying arms of law, but... It was working, and at this rate, that's all he could ask for.

Summer vacation soon rolled in and took the city in its lively grasp, flooding its streets with a majority of energetic teenagers yearning for rambunctious activity. What Wally took this to mean was that it made it far easier to blend in and fade into the background, concerning his own various 'hooligan-ish' escapades. Sure he was still on the very younger end of the range of young men and women who'd spend their late nights embarrassing civilized society to various degrees, but it just meant that it was a little more heat off his back and a little more on just their generation as a whole. It 'eased up' certain areas again whilst 'closing off' others, and he changed his patterns accordingly.

Throughout all this, he had persisted in doggedly avoiding even Uncle Barry. Even though he hadn't talked to him properly in, well, a while, he was convinced that every time it was just going to be the same thing over and over again since the first time... That he shouldn't have stolen the notes. Shouldn't have recreated the experiment. Shouldn't have left home recklessly and run all the way here without telling anyone. Wally knew this tone was all just because Barry was worried about him, and that Barry was so put upon by his own life that he was just frustrated with a lot of things right now. It was for this reason too that Wally continued to avoid him, simply out of a desire not to 'bother' him any more than he already was, which only made it confusing that Barry was still trying to get his attention and track him down all the time. Even in sharing a close acquaintance like Aunt Iris, Wally had managed to avoid The Flash simply by only popping back into Iris' when he needed to and would bolt at the first glimpse of Barry before the latter even got to see him. It was easier nowadays, he wasn't at Iris' as often as he had been before...

Today though, he resolved that actually, maybe he should... Maybe he _should _talk with Uncle Barry. Especially as he didn't have that many other people to talk to about his current condition, the powers, what he did... The whole of it. The Flash knew exactly what he was going through, and was also an older figure he had admired and looked up to beyond all others as early as when he had first met his civilian identity through Aunt Iris. Maybe it was best he got some advice, or something, after all... It was pretty lonely doing this, and dangerous... Since his last talk with Nightwing and what he had realized there in front of the lake, this wasn't just going to be something that was all fun and games. Despite how much he wanted it to be just that, had _expected _it to be just that, and acted like it was up until now...

And so, the plan was that he would surprise Barry as he left work late this afternoon (Barry usually liked to work into the night, but he tended to leave Fridays free for any personal commitments), with the proposal of a night out at the game between the Stars and Keystone's Salamanders. Barry was well aware that he was fond of baseball, and had often come up to Blue Valley with a glove, bat and ball so they could play together in the Nebraskan fields outside Wally's old house. The perfect atmosphere to try and rekindle communication with him, this thirteen year old thought. The plan had quickly fallen to ruins once he had attempted to confirm that Barry was free that evening, only for Iris to mention that actually it sounded like he had plans... She had asked what Wally was thinking of, but he had quickly denied it was anything important and had skittered off before another word could be said. He spent the rest of the day losing confidence in the matter and questioning again whether he should even talk to him. The thought of Barry even _possibly _being angry at him or annoyed at him in any way was something he'd want to avoid forever, at any cost...

That evening, the kid speedster instead treated himself to an early dinner at one of the notoriously excellent restaurants dotted around the Petersburg district. Once he had paid the bill (using the pocket money he had accumulated over the past week; it's not like he used it for anything else...), he promptly snuck up onto the restaurant's roof and flopped onto his back, staring up at the starry sky and generally feeling down in the dumps about stuff and life and everything. What was supposed to have been a _really _cool end of the day ended up actually sucking kind of badly. Guess he was going to spend it just running off some more kJ or something... He'll go grab his bandana and shirt in a bit... ... Man, what a let-down... Well, at least the stars looked pretty nice up there.

Except when there was an upside-down face in the way.

"Bad day?"

It was smirking.

-_sskkfjkghhh!_

Just after his body spasmed in fright as per usual reaction, Wally rapidly rolled over several times until he felt himself at a safe enough distance to push himself up onto his knees and look over to where he had been. Sure enough, Nightwing was standing over there, still leaning over where Wally had just been lying, hands on his hips and all too smug grin now aimed over at his new position. Only just noticing that he was clutching at where his heart was, Wally glanced down at his hand and quickly whipped it away and shoved it in his pocket instead. Because he was cool. This elicited only a further impish grin from the youngster, and Wally was quick to jump to his own defense.

"O-okay, _normal _people say 'Hello' first! Or call your _name _or something...!"

Wally protested as he hastily got to his feet and dusted himself off, making sure not to lift his eyes off the other kid for even a second in case he pulled his ghosty ninja trick again. Nightwing however only straightened and turned to face him, smiling apologetically, though there was definitely way, way too much cheek in that expression for it to be 100% genuine.

"Oh. Right. Sorry, Wally."

"Yeah, well, apology acc-"

... _Haaaanngg _on. Something wasn't right.

Wait a second, he'd never introduced himself to-...

Oh.

Oh. Okay.

Nightwing already knew who he was. His name. Probably where he lived...

That was... cool. Yep. Sure. Figures. Uh-huh.

...

"Hey! Why do you get to know _my _name and I don't get to know _yours_?"

Petulant Wally returned with a vengeance, complete with hands on hips and a slight lean forward that complimented the sharp little frown on his freckled face.

"You know my name."

Nightwing replied simply, folding his arms and widening that smart aleck look he insisted on wearing.

"Yeah but- Your _other _one. Why didn't you just stick with 'Kid Flash' or something then?"

"Because i'm not _talking _to_ 'Kid Flash'_."

Nightwing inclined his head slightly, as though indicating Wally's being. Or more specifically, Wally guessed in context, his clothes. Just the usual hash of his casual attire this time, only significantly lacking the 'Flash' t-shirt and yellow bandana he had worn in his previous encounters with this boy... He supposed he was trumped. _Again_. Aahh why had he even bothered... Nevermind.

"You still suck at stone skipping."

Wally retorted outloud when he had totally been planning on keeping that one to his closet of bitter inward thinking. Well, darn it. At least Nightwing seemed to be the type who could take all sorts of jokes, by the way he was now chuckling away at him, which... still surprised him, he had to admit. From the way that people talked about the Gotham City crime-killers, he had always imagined that any meeting with either of them would always inevitably without fail begin, ensue and end with multiple knife and bullet wounds to your vitals... Nightwing seemed to have stopped expressing his general amusement, and was now simply surveying him. Wally at once felt studied, and suspected critical eyes lay under that mask right now. His assumption would prove correct.

"... You look better."

The smirk returned.

"Did you take my advice...?"

"I-I dunno. _Maybe_."

Wally emphasized, still embarrassed by having had his 'problem' discovered and addressed so readily... by someone younger than him, that was also an almost-stranger to him. Sort of... ... Nightwing seemed to gather whatever answer he wanted from that through the expression of another hearty giggle, so he quickly went on to another subject.

"You're usually already running by this time at night... What's different today?"

He wasn't even going to _ask_ how Nightwing had apparently figured his life's operations into a predictable schedule. Just like he wasn't going to ask how he had figured out his name. Nor about whether he knew where he lived, etc etc. ... Recalling the last night he spent with him, Wally took a deep breath, and simply _relaxed_. Blocking everything else he could possibly think about this boy out of his mind again, he decided to just see exactly what he wanted right now. What he needed most right now.

Someone to talk to.

"A... whole bunch of stuff, actually... Annoying stuff..."

He looked up just in time to see Nightwing lean back against one of the external vents near to him, one leg lifted and pressed back against it as he folded his arms again and watched Wally patiently. The whole tone of his repositioning suggested he had some time to kill. ... Honestly? He might as well...

Wally told him everything.

Whoa, hang on, not that dramatic. He told him about his conflict over whether to finally find Uncle Barry himself and talk to him about 'all this', about how he had been planning to surprise Barry with the idea of going to the baseball game tonight, but how Barry already had plans apparently, which was weird because Barry never had plans, but anyway so now he's had too much time to think on it and has started doubting whether he should talk to him at all, stuff stuff stuff blah blah blah... Throughout the entire spiel Wally found himself gesturing a lot, as was in his personality and nature. Whether it was waving his hand around or pacing as he talked, doing impressions or attempting to mime certain scenes... In contrast, Nightwing seemed focused on only showing himself as being an entirely attentive audience. Which he was, if not a bit eerily quiet during the whole thing. So all he would offer other than relative trained stillness was the occasional nod that indicated he was following the story.

By the time Wally was done, Nightwing had come off vent and taken a few steps forward, putting a hand to his chin and looking to the ground as if deep in thought. The speedster opposing him, somewhat tired out from finally pouring out all of his troubles onto someone else, simply watched and waited anxiously for whatever response the other boy had.

...

"... Why don't you just go to the game anyway?"

Is what he offered.

And yet again Wally failed to comprehend or entirely get on board with what he was thinking.

"Huh? By _myself_? I'm not allowed to go to things like that alone! I-I mean, it'd be boring without anyone else. And I don't think the money I have on me can buy me a ticket..."

Nightwing seemed thoroughly entertained by all this.

"_That's _all that's stopping you...?"

"W-what's that supposed to mean...?"

Wally argued,

"Anyway, that's not gonna help me talk to my Uncle..."

Nightwing perked breezily and shrugged his shoulders, displaying his hands in a 'matter-of-fact' mannerism.

"It's more fun than sitting here getting upset about it..."

... He had a point.

Gosh darn it, why was he _always __**right**_.

Though naturally the first thing Wally did upon instinct was to challenge him further on it.

"But-. The _tickets_. The _money_. Your _costume_. ... I mean, that is, if you're coming too..."

Despite all of these very legitimate concerns the teenager had, his accomplice could only shake his head in disappointment. Confused, Wally pressed for an explanation. What he received in return was only Nightwing telling him to meet him at the south exit of the Central City stadium in exactly thirty minutes, and to bring all his food/drink/concessions whatever in advance with him. Before the speedster could ask any more questions, the Boy Soldier took to the edge and leaped down off the roof. By the time Wally got to the edge, naturally, he was nowhere to be seen. ... He wanted to suspect another trick or game of his, but, what more could he do than play along even if it was? It gave him something to do, anyway...

A few runs around town to his favorite snack stores and to the stadium's own concession stands meant that he was already ready some ten minutes before the designated minute. He killed time outside the now deserted southern exit (everyone else with a ticket had already gone inside), by making sure he still knew the entire Periodic Table off by heart in order of atomic number. That game was over pretty quickly, so he decided to run them through by group, and then by period. Just because. When that ended, he decided to recount the atomic mass of each element, and then to see how many isotopes he could remember and what specific properties they held. Naturally too wrapped up in the variations of his memory games, he failed to remain aware of why he was even here, and so quickly lost track of time.

This meant that what happened next took him completely by surprise.

Just as he started verbally counting off the Iodine isotopes, a bundle of grey material smashed into his lower face and smothered his mouth into abrupt silence. He didn't even have the time to _begin _his panicking before a sudden sharp jerk at his lower back wrenched his whole body from the ground. The ground was leaving him. The air rushed past his ears and his surroundings fell into a sharp vertical decline of colors around him. Vertigo assaulted his senses to mercilessly dizzying degrees as he failed to avert his frozen eyes from the spot where he had only just been standing, growing more and more distant from underneath his thrashing feet. He knew he was screaming, but it was long lost over the roar of the winds and under the ruthless grip of whatever was holding this suffocating material to his mouth. The ascent was unbelievably fast and over a terrifyingly ceaseless and gaining height; the corner of Wally's mind that was calculating science instead of panicking blindly asserted that it had to be breaking into the hundred, and then _two _hundred feet at this rate. The realization made him feel sick. In all impressive achievements, it was miraculous that he'd managed to keep a hold of his goodie bags of concessions this whole time. Probably most definitely the result of his sheet white knuckled grip on them in the midst of his blind panic.

Once the distance down to the spot where he had been standing became unfathomable to the naked eye, the ascent finally slowed to a speed his brain could actually process. There was a 'clunk' sound, the world flipped up and he felt his back fall clumsily against sheet metal. Something solid. Oh thank god. The grip around his mouth finally loosened and the material was taken away, just as Nightwing's upside-down grin greeted him for the second time this night.

"Nice flight?"

Was all he said.

Wally's brow furrowed as his liberated mouth panted gasping breaths that had been left behind in a mournful trail leading some couple of hundred feet back to the ground. Despite its notoriously fast processing, it took a moment for him to process what the heck just happened there. Who, what, when, where, why, _how_... That last, most perplexing one seemed to answer itself as he heard a series of 'clicks' from underneath him, around where the small of his back was. Specifically, his belt and trouser loops. Seconds later, he saw Nightwing standing up and retracting various cords with clasps into some variety of grappling line guns that all very much resembled stylishly advanced climbing equipment... that should really only exist in hi-tech spy movies. Who? He knew. What? He knew. When? He knew. Where? He knew. ... He finally regained the composure to sit up (not too quickly, he was still feeling nauseous), and promptly shot a beyond uncomprehending look across at Nightwing.

"Wh-_why_. Why would you... Oh god, just, _why_... "

"'Fastest way to travel."

Nightwing commented absently, still configuring the line gun in his hand.

"Y'know, when you don't have super speed."

He was grinning humorously to himself.

Wally struggled over several consonants of vague disbelieving noises until he settled on one particular feature of his problems with all of this.

"And the _kidnapping attempt_?"

Never failing to amp up the drama and regularly earn his 'class clown' badges, Wally raised his hands and pointed with both index fingers to his mouth, giving the dark grey scarf-like implement currently slung over Nightwing's shoulder a dirty look.

"You were going to scream either way."

The other boy shrugged matter-of-factly, turning his smirk back in Wally's direction.

"Even if I had come up to you and told you not to, you still would have screamed."

Wally opened his mouth to retort.

... _Aaannnd _promptly closed it again. Thinking about it... Yeah. He... most likely would have. At that speed and over that height for the first time, how could anyone _not _do so. Still, some, just, _any _kind or level of warning would have been. Y'know. _Nice_.

Nightwing promptly continued his self-validation.

"And I don't think a loud, ascending wail would have helped our cause of trying to _avoid _authorities who might be on the lookout for two kids sneaking onto the stadium and getting the _best seats __**for free**_?"

It was only at that moment that Wally actually remembered what they were here for. A working knowledge of the Central City stadium and a quick mental factoring of the facts that he had been at the southern exit and just risen many many feet all gave him an ample idea of where they were now. Cautiously getting to his feet on the metal plating below them, he pulled his bags of things along the ground as he slowly edged forward towards the crest of the roof they were on. Out of his peripheral vision he could see two _huge _structures housing bright lighting at his very left and very right. The echo of overhead broadcasting and the rumble of cheering fans resounded in bouts and waves from just beyond the lip of roof up ahead. Jogging the final few feet, he reached the edge.

And found himself overlooking the _entire _Central City stadium.

They were on the very roof of the arena, seated just above the highest stands in line with the dead center of the playing field. Endless rows and rows of colored seating filled with bobbing heads and moving figures led down to the diamond pitch belonging to the Central City Stars. The players themselves were already practicing on the field, he could just about make out the pitchers and catchers exchanging throws around home base. Though he couldn't make out any details, names or faces from this height, a _massive _televised screen lay dead ahead in their vision. It was stretched along the opposing back wall of the field, just above the very visible scoreboard and its empty columns of innings, more than compensating for lacking human vision with dynamic digital close-ups and spotlights. Suffice it to say, Wally's thirteen year old mind had just been blown beyond comprehension. His grip on his bags of stuff slacked in time with his jaw as he simply stared down at the grand expanse before him...

"So. Are you rooting for the home team...?"

Nightwing broke his stupor with a simple, entirely unexpected question. Wally blinked as he came back down to earth from his heavenly excitement, looking down to his left where the other boy had already seated himself cross-legged on the metallic surface. He was looking out at the field before them with an expression that denoted a soft intrigue; the tone of his question had been one of genuine interest, on top of that... Blinking again, the young speedster remembered to answer his question. Sort of.

"_Umm_~... I think so? I dunno, I like Keystone's team too."

Wally began to settle down as well, flopping over onto his side and unpacking his snack foods of choice with a hand.

"I've heard the Salamanders are pretty good, yeah."

Nightwing agreed conversationally. He was still watching the two teams practicing on the field. Wally had somewhat double-took at the response however, pausing just as his hand closed around packet of chips to look up and carelessly allow his surprised expression to wash over his face. His ever loose mouth was soon to follow suit.

"_You _like baseball?"

Thinking on it, he instantly regretted how he had said that. The tone he had used implied a very certain strand of disbelief that Nightwing had any kind of life outside doing... that... thing he does. He swallowed sheepishly and felt bad for thinking that. It was easy to forget that there were _people _behind all these masks and costumes and stuff. Once again, using Uncle Barry as an example seemed immediately instructive. Uncle Barry was much, much more than just 'The Flash' that everyone else saw on TV...

He must have appeared visibly apologetic in some way, because although he didn't turn his head from the action on the field, Nightwing smiled slightly to himself; with good humor, in an almost 'forgiving' sense. Though no word was spoken to confirm it any which way, Wally liked to think it was that...

"I've gone to a few games before..."

Recovering from his earlier stumble, Wally grinned cheekily in response to this and gestured around them with both of his arms.

"You mean like _this_...?"

Nightwing's smile only deepened into something a little more devious.

"Not exactly..."

... Apparently he wasn't going to expand on that, but his current expression implied it was definitely something that Wally would have several things to say about. Instantly his mind imploded upon the weight of ideas that crashed into his mind. The most prevailing one that he couldn't get out of his head, which was problematic because he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at it, was one of just Nightwing and The Dark Knight sitting there amongst all these regular dudes whilst in their costumes and armed to the teeth as ever, sipping on a coke and eating a hot dog respectively. He spent a whole entire moment just zoned out and thinking of that image... and wondering how to react to it.

A tentative question from Nightwing on how good the Central City team was ignited a new thread of conversation that engaged them for a fair amount of time. This topic led onto a more general one of baseball teams from around the country, by which time the game itself was ready to start. The speakers for the stadium must have been lodged in the rafters below the semi-circular arena roof they were reclining on; when 'Eye of the Tiger' began blaring out at maximum volume as the players ran out onto the field, each beat sent out a monumental shockwave against a strong background strumming vibration that each rocked through the metallic surface underneath them. The incredible volume and reverberating strength of the music led to much youthful amusement from the two boys. As Wally laughed outloud in gleeful amazement, put his ear to the metal and mimed out dance moves to each dramatic beat, Nightwing could hardly stifle the chain of cackling laughter prompted by the speedster's infectious antics.

The first inning went off to a thrilling start, with several strikeouts at the skillful throwing hand of Central City's current ace pitcher. The Keystone Salamanders eventually began clawing their way back with a number of impressive hits way out into the backs. Nightwing personally seemed to be rooting for them, though didn't refrain from giving praise where praise was due to Central's pitcher and several of their outlying fielders. Wally in the meantime spent most of the time sitting on the fence regarding loyalties and instead opted for just going crazy every time either one of the teams did something 'totally cool!' or 'frickin' awesome!'.

The innings soon began clocking up, with some ample lulls in activity between innings and during the game itself making room for idle conversation. With the subject at hand, the two began to talk more generally about the sports they liked. The usual ones naturally came up; football, basketball, ice hockey, soccer... Wally cracked a joke about being unable to watch Track events in the Olympics because the running speeds 'depressed him', whilst Nightwing expressed a general love for all things aerial, which his elder company only decried as 'too obvious~~'. He'd seen the footage on the news. Well, the most vague, low quality ones that were actually the only ones available on the nightly huntings of 'those two'. All that swinging around had to indicate something, right? In any case, that sorta stuff looked cool to do too. But being him, he'd think he'd prefer his feet planted on solid ground for as long as possible.

Though they talked through much of it, there were also periods where a sorta comfortable silence kinda settled between them. The only sound could be the sound of a bat hitting a ball, the roar of the crowds in response and the broadcaster commentating in some sports jargon only few would really be listening to... The only thing they could be doing was just watching the game play out as Wally occasionally ate another one of his snacks... But, even when it was just that, it would be fun. Sitting all the way up here where no-one else could reach and watching a game with someone around his age, someone who already knew who he was in the day and who he was at night and apparently didn't judge him at all for any of it...

He also felt like he was making progress in something. At the second inning he had offered Nightwing some pretzels; he was declined. At the fourth inning he had offered him some nachos; a decline after a pause of what _must _have been deliberation. At the sixth inning he held out a bag of opened popcorn. After a prolonged moment, the other boy had plucked a few popped kernels between his fingers and, after twiddling them around idly between his fingers for a while, proceeded to eat them over the course of that inning. 'So, it likes baseball _and _it eats', Wally noted to himself in self-deprecating humor.

The seventh inning stretch soon came about, resulting in the players leaving the field and the fans unseating themselves in order to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments. A rousing rendition of 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game' promptly started up. With the game at a formal break, Wally leaned back on the palms of his hands and let out a lackadaisical whistle in an expression at the 'cool down' period of the sport. Nightwing likewise shifted again in his seated position, opting for one that involved lying down on his side instead of sitting mostly upright as he had done so for most of the game so far. Knowing that conversation was inevitably going to start up again, Wally decided to direct the flow of it onto something that was still kinda bothering him. This whole outing had done a darn good job of putting it back into the very recesses of his mind, but with this extended period between the first and second halves of the seventh inning, he felt like it might be a good time to try and bring it up... After all, he now had someone conveniently situated to listen. And maybe even answer...

"... So... You know I haven't talked to The Flash about everything yet..."

"If by that you mean, 'I haven't _let _The Flash talk _to me _about everything yet', then yeah, I'm up to date on things..."

Wally turned over to direct a reproachful scowl at the other boy, who was still lying on his side with one hand propping up his head and looking at him with that infinitely patient all-knowing smirk of his. Continuing to pout, the speedster decided to go on.

"Well, _anyway_... What do... What do you think? Should I try and get his help with... with _this_..."

He gestured vaguely at his legs with one sweep of his hand.

"Can you take care of it yourself?"

Nightwing asked simply. Wally thought about this for a moment, even though the answer had already become cripplingly obvious to him several times over the past month or so. The truth was still hard for him to admit, kinda shameful really, which led to him averting eye contact somewhat as he answered.

"... N-... No..."

"Then you don't have a choice."

Looking back up to meet Nightwing's face, Wally noted that it had fallen to a far more serious expression. This was extremely jarring against his experiences with the other boy so far, and so he felt himself somewhat quelled and motivated to further digest the severity of the situation. Even if it was so, so much easier just _running_...

"I... guess not..."

A natural quiet followed in which it was presumed that Wally might eventually say something else on the matter. Eager to stay on topic and yet change the subject, he made the move to pry for yet another possible comparison. Something that would make it easier to understand, make it predictable and allow him to know what to expect from all this...

"So... It'd be safer if I ran to The Flash for help... That seems pretty... Yeah... ..."

A pause for preparation, until he embarked on his mission.

"Is that why you're with the, um, The Dark Knight...? Because it's 'safer'...?"

Clearly, Nightwing hadn't quite been prepared for that one. That was a first. At least, it seemed that way from the way he quietly rolled onto his back and stared up at the night sky above them, placing his hands underneath his head like some kind of pillow as he mulled the thought over in his head.

"... I'm with him for lots of reasons..."

Is what he offered in the end. But with that answer it seemed implicit that it being 'safer' to be under another's larger wings was definitely 'one of' these many reasons he apparently had. A part of Wally wanted to press for more details, more answers, as any curious kid would be driven to desiring at such teasing half-information all the time. Another part however, held an awareness that what he was even getting was stuff he was really, really lucky to be getting at all. It was becoming harder and harder to actually 'remember' just _who _he was talking to, even his visual perception of the other boy had started paying less and less attention to the deadly weapons that hung off this kid like casual accessories. He guessed it was just sorta fading into the background the more he talked to him, and the more he learned about him... He accepted the answer he was given, and decided to press no more.

"Oh... Cool. ... Um, thanks for the help anyway..."

Nightwing nodded once in recognition of his gratitude, but seemed to be thinking about other things right now that were clearly occupying his mind. With this made evident, Wally sat up and occupied himself through emptying the last of his 'goodie bags' and starting to devour his way through that haul. This odd silence permeated only by the sound of crunching and chewing went on for a while, until yet another thing that had long been bothering Wally came to the fore of his mind. Something that he'd been tentatively wondering ever since that night at the lake. Gulping down his latest intake, he started a word, but then stopped in hesitation. He knew Nightwing had noticed, and so was now caught in that very awkward situation of whether to continue his point, handwave it by or simply pretend nothing had happened. Feeling the prick of the hair bristling at the back of his neck due to a certain someone now staring at him expectantly, he eventually caved and came out with it.

"Uh... ... Hey... ... Um, Nightwing...?"

It was the first time he had actually said it, all this time...

It felt beyond weird to just_ say _that...

There was a very stressful pause, in which his mind jumped to crazy dumb scenarios that involved wondering what it felt like to feel a knife plunge abruptly into your back. Wally's nerves were however somewhat soothed at the eventual donation of a reply.

"... Yeah...?"

Relaxing a little, Wally continued looking out over the magnificently lit stadium in front of them.

"... Are we friends...?"

...

...

...

"... If you want to be..."

Wally turned around, and when he saw Nightwing smiling at him...

He smiled back.

. - . - .

The final innings of the baseball match were a satisfying finale to a great game played by both sides. After some setbacks in the middling innings, the Keystone Salamanders had eventually pulled through by the end with one of their characteristic upset victories. This naturally meant that Nightwing was quite pleased, and Wally frankly would have been happy and whooping cheers no matter who had won. They waited for a while until they were sure the rest of the stadium had been cleared, passing time by talking about the 'coolest moments' of the match and discussing which players of those teams they would pick to sign a baseball if they were given the chance. Once it became pretty clear that a bare minimum of staff were now left in the whole stadium, it was decided that they should probably get going too.

Insisting several times over that Nightwing go a 'bit easier' with the descent this time, a bet on whether Wally would scream or not was eventually formulated from the Gothamite's lack of conviction in the ginger's self-confidence. Two hundred and sixty-eight feet of careening towards solid ground at circa fifty one miles per hour ended roughly three point five seconds later with Wally admitting he had been wrong ten times over. Which had naturally been Nightwing's side of the bet. Satisfied with his victory, the dark haired boy had been quick to suggest they vanish into the small neighboring park in case any of the remaining staff had heard the graceful mourning call of a speedster in distress. Harr harr, Wally had thought to himself; after all, they could _totally _have taken it slower than that, he'd pulled that free fall on purpose...

Under the cover of a glade of trees, the two caught their breath and remarked amidst laughs on how easily they had managed to get away with all that. This accelerated into talk of the experience in general, and Wally found himself actively thanking Nightwing for the crazy night out. It had been wild fun, after all. Even with all the kidnapping attempts and striking terror into his heart through free fall plunges. To Wally's honest surprise, Nightwing answered with a similar tone, if not exact in his wording. Picking up on the former occasions they had shared so far, he simply mentioned that he just seemed to have a fun time whenever he came here, so... Evidently, it worked out well for the both of them.

Wally could feel that point in their conversation coming up where Nightwing would just abruptly disappear again, having already become attuned to a pattern of two nights previously. Not letting him have the chance to do that, he made sure to keep his eyes fixed on him as he pointedly asked a question on his escape methods. Or more specifically, his travel arrangements. Which, actually, he'd been wondering about for a while now... Along with the Uncle Barry thing and the whether they were 'friends' thing...

"Hey, Nightwing. I've been wondering. How do you even get here and back anyway? I know you're out here to check out the hero-ing stuff outside your city, but... Gotham is so far _away_. It's like all the way up there in New England! Do you fly out or something every time...?"

Nightwing turned from him and directed a particular, secretive smile off somewhere over to their left.

"... Maybe."

"Okay, so you fly out. You guys probably have your own jet or something, I've heard about the car. ... So does the uh, does the um, Dark Knight just drop you off every time?"

... That peculiar smile was still stuck there.

"Oh god he doesn't-. He doesn't stick around here _every time _does he? Is he here now? Has he been here this whole time?"

"No. No he doesn't come here..."

Nightwing's eventual answer was far, far too innocently nonchalant, and that fixed smile was creeping that much wider as this dragged on. Not taking note of this, Wally simply breathed a sigh of relief... but then paused abruptly. Something didn't add up.

"Wait. So, wait. But he drops you off, yeah? I mean, it's not like you fly the plane yourself. You're like what, ten? _Pfhahahah, _could you _imagine_?..."

...

...

...

...

_**What. **_

...

"No. Way."

Wally stated flatly, staring down that devilish smile with a wall of blank denial. It only grew more ashen as Nightwing began to cackle lightly to himself, in a way Wally had long become familiar with. That predatory 'I am entertained by your funny reactions to my whims' way. There was just so much his mind simply could not process about this fact right now, but he allowed it to crumble underneath the weight of its own utter lack of comprehension and give way to the surging boyish enthusiasm that couldn't help but rave in sheer excitement over the idea.

"You _pilot _your own _plane_?"

"Jet."

"You _pilot _your own _**jet**_?"

"I pilot my own jet."

"You-... ... You-... ... ... _Youu_..."

Nightwing laughed lightly at Wally's exceptional failure to form a sentence any more; quite the rare occasion if he'd ever seen one. As one could predict, he drew out the entertaining scene for as long as he could without oversaturating the humor of the situation. It was worth noting however, that rather than suspecting another trick or ploy for amusement at his own expense as had been committed against him multiple times before, Wally had simply believed him on this one. Which was all well and good, as he'd been telling the truth this time.

It was up to Nightwing to eventually curtail commentary on the matter, as well as requests. Many, many requests that involved Wally's own chances of being able to, A) see the plane, B) _board _the plane, C) _**pilot **_the plane. To all of these the masked vigilante had simply answered with an ambiguous smirk and _'We'll see_.'. Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere near it tonight, Wally somewhat calmed down. Somewhat. But the way in which his right leg was vibrating uncontrollably and his left foot was obsessively tapping against the ground suggested he was still very much enthused by the idea. Either that or he had spent far too long sitting still for his own health tonight... Even more of a reason to make a move to leave and give him some space to exercise the proper amount he should clock in for tonight, Nightwing reckoned.

"Tonight's been great. But I'm gonna get going."

Wally took this statement as the indicator of Nightwing's inevitable departure, and so neither said nor did anything but stare at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to deploy whatever magic trick he uses to get away all the time. When no such development occurred, Wally expressed his surprise and simply asked.

"Aren't you going to do your disappearing thing...?"

Waving the idea off with a slight chuckle, Nightwing instead lifted a gloved hand and drew it back to around his hip, digging it inside a compartment in his belt and evidently fishing around for something in particular.

"Actually, I have something I want to give you first."

By the time Nightwing had found it and looked up to Wally again, the latter had paled significantly and seemed utterly frozen in place. It was very apparent that the older boy had momentarily dreaded something else entirely other than the small, compact electronic device Nightwing had extracted and held out to him. There was an awkward silence in which Wally just looked at it in a mixture of mild apprehension, but predominantly just confusion.

"... It's just a comm. ... A communicator."

Nightwing added awkwardly, as though entirely unsure to what degree an average teenage boy like Wally would know of these sorts of things. His following explanation faltered similarly as he stumbled on how to explain it in ways he was not used to talking about it with.

"It's like a cell phone, but um... Even smaller and made in a way so that other people definitely can't listen in on us..."

It took only a few more seconds of contemplation before Wally tentatively took the small device from his hand. It took a few more minutes for Nightwing to explain its basic functions, how to use it etc., and at the end, also mentioned why he was giving it to him.

"I don't know when I'll be around again, and I want to make sure you do what you said you would and talk to your Uncle."

Wally let a jibe ease out accompanied by a winning smile.

"Okay, _Mom_."

Nightwing paused in momentary confusion but then evidently caught on and gave a little laugh. He righted his approach with a smooth additional reasoning to his methods.

"It's _also _just a way for us to keep in contact and update each other in case something happens. And to, just... talk in general, I guess..."

Wally pondered on all this,

"So~, basically...~"

- and leaned forward slightly, indicating the 'comm' in his hand with a comprehending grin.

"'Walkie-talkie'."

The response he got from Nightwing was not one he had expected. Nightwing, who he characterized primarily as playfully mischievous, extremely knowledgeable and confidently collected, creased his brow slightly and appeared somewhat unsure of what to say in reply to that. It was as though he had been confronted by something he didn't really know or understand... It seemed he was intent on not allowing this 'embarrassing' lack of certain knowledge extend to Wally's presence for any greater amount of time...

"Umm, yeah. Sure..."

Wally was left to wonder on that one for the rest of the night. As they actually exchanged proper goodbyes for once, he watched Nightwing melt away into the darkness for the first time and found himself staring at that spot for a while afterwards, his mind whirring with incessant activity in thinking on the other boy and the countless mysteries that surrounded him. Eventually he drew his gaze away from those shadows and instead looked down at the comm in his hand. ... So... Did this mean Nightwing _trusted _him...? Well, they were friends now, right? And friends trust each other... In that case, he just had to make sure to keep up his end and return that trust in full... ...

Wally's nightly escapade throughout the city was efficient and thus on the short end this night; he spent the morning hours lying on top of the roof of Aunt Iris' house, staring up at the 'walkie-talkie' held between his fingers above him. It was pretty cool they now had a way of talking that didn't depend on surprise visits over varying spans of weeks. Previously he had had no control over whether he would see the boy from Gotham City, and here he was now holding something that would let him talk to him or leave messages for him whenever he wanted. That was pretty great and all, but he wondered if it would be as much fun as actually being _around _the other boy.

He was already looking forward to when they'd get to hang out again...


	4. Crash

Becoming official 'friends' with the Boy Soldier of Gotham City was something of a major confidence booster to this thirteen year old speedster. Again, somewhere in his mind, Wally was well aware that it _shouldn't _be... but it really kinda was. As a result, he decided to spend just a 'final' bit more time stubbornly soloing it along Central City's streets and side roads before he approached Barry. The surge of a newly discovered sense of brazen invincibility, the type you get when you survive multiple encounters with a nationally famous criminal-killer and then go on to _befriend _him, led to a challenging of previous obstacles that had formerly haunted him.

Aside from continuing to siphon off his excess energy through publicly incriminating individual endeavor, Wally pushed further and further against the boundaries of where the 'heroes' of this city patrolled. He dared more, ran risks, became reckless again; all entirely on purpose. Running around a block loads of times may have ensured he got to the safe minimum but, like Uncle Barry, he had long since realized that the 'rush' gained from being pressured or hounded by people chasing after you was just so incredibly superior in experience and efficiency in the speed formula that dictated their lives, that there was simply no decision to make between them. He'd reincorporated graffiti and spray paint as part of his nightly routines, which seemed to maximize the attention he received in turn from the law, much to his satisfaction.

Suffice it to say, it was _addictive_.

The problem was that the more he 'got away' with it, the more confidence he gained in his abilities to get away with it all on his own in the future. He began pushing back the start of his escapades into the early evening, occasionally even as early as later afternoons. Needless to say the constant lucky victories, or 'escapes' as they were in actuality, started getting to his head. And apparently, a certain someone had either noticed, or suspected that such a thing might be going on. Whilst on one of his evening public menacings of the University district, he felt a small buzz vibrate sharply on his left arm. Skidding to a haphazard stop by a faculty building, he slipped out the comm he'd received via Nightwing from underneath his watch; an apt hiding place for it, he'd thought. They'd been exchanging messages this entire time, about all sorts of things; it was pretty darn cool how this tiny device held a _tiny _tiny slide-out keyboard and could project holographic displays for the messages themselves. ... Lately though, it seemed all the other boy wanted to send him were things along the lines of,

'Talk to your Uncle. - ѵ '

There he was, badgering him about that again. And with that weird little 'v' thing he used to sign off as usual. He'd asked him what that had been about since they had started exchanging these messages. Or more specifically, had asked him, 'lol what is v XD'. Nightwing had just told him to 'figure it out', so with a little help from the internet he found out it was some old extinct and now forgotten letter from the Cyrillic alphabet, the one used by Russia and the places around it apparently. Now that didn't really help him understand why it was being used by him here; well at first he had had a false epiphany and just asked whether Nightwing's real name was actually 'Izhitsa' or something, to which he was sorely rebutted as being totally wrong. Wally harbored not-so-secret suspicions that this denial was just another trick, and so would occasionally refer to the other boy as 'Izzy' as though that were his name. And he would get away with it, much to his satisfaction. It was only some time later that he realized that the letter did somewhat resemble the dull gold band emblem that spanned across the top of Nightwing's chest armor. ... Yeah, thinking about it, that was probably what he had intended to replicate.

'yeah i will in a bit just going to college first XDD - KF '

So he had decided to follow suit, taking on the tabloid designated title for his meddling identity with more affection and using the abbreviation of it to sign off in turn. It felt really cool to do that, like a secret code that nobody else would be able to crack if they got hold of it. Thinking about it like that provoked a delighted chuckle under his breath. As he prepared to stow the device away it vibrated again, he quickly pulled it back out to see the reply.

'I'm serious. Do it. - ѵ '

Wally leaned back slightly, as though taken aback by the overly serious tone taken by the other boy. His expression fell somewhat. Party-pooper... Why did he have to be like that right n-

_-bzzt-_

? ...

'Or I'll kill you. - ѵ '

...

...

...

_-bzzt-_

'Gotcha ;P - ѵ '

Wally's heart decided to beat again.

Leaning back against the wall of the faculty, Wally tipped his head back and broke off into a trail of mirthful laughter from underneath his yellow bandana. Okay, that had been good, even he had to admit. He'd have to start steeling himself for those ones so that he wouldn't be caught out on them anymore. Uphill battle, but for the sake of his own masculine pride, it would have to be achieved!

'har har very funny - KF '

-is all he could conjure in rebuttal right now. He'd think of a good one to get back at him with later. For now though, it was time to keep up with his sorta promise and try and go find Uncle Barry. He didn't feel too pressured to anymore, he was handling himself just fine. If things didn't go well in his talk with his fellow speedster, than he'd just bolt off and keep doing what he was doing until they could get on the same track again. With this plan in mind, he kicked off towards home. Changing into a different, less suspicious set of clothes, he went around back to where his old bike was parked and largely forgotten. He hadn't used it so much for a while, for obvious reasons, but it was without doubt the lesser suspect transport than his primary alternative.

It took a while for him to bike all the way to the police station where Barry worked, though he passed the time fine by complaining in his head about how slow it was the entire way there. Once he arrived, he wheeled his bike up to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the building and sorta dumped it there, seating himself on the bottom step and preparing himself for a bit of wait. It was a normal weekday, so Barry was going to be working later than his actual designated hours again, as usual. Wally knew Barry's work was really important to him, and important to a lot of people, so he didn't think to butt in on him in case he was doing something that he wouldn't want to be interrupted in. Besides, he could wait. It was heading into evening now, so it would be just a couple of hours...

A few people came in and out of the building, mostly cleaning staff or people who were just locking up and stuff. Some gave Wally a few curious looks, but most passed without saying a word, no doubt figuring that he was waiting for someone. Eventually however, as the night wore on, a click of descending shoes up the stairs behind him paused in step.

"... Wally? Wally is that you?"

A female voice. Wally turned around and looked up with a questioning expression. Oh. It was that lady Uncle Barry worked with, Patty Spivot. The reason she knew him and he knew her was because of that link. Barry apparently talked about Wally a lot at work, so by the time the ginger haired pre-teen had begun frequenting his workplace looking to hang out with him whenever possible, this lady had made sure to acquaint herself with the famously sweet kid. He liked her fine enough, for his own part. She was nice, as he could see in effect even now. The thick frames of her glasses did not much hide the concern in her blue eyes as she came down to stand in front of Wally, leaning forward slightly and speaking to him in her usual kind voice.

"What are you doing here? It's late, you should get home..."

"I'm waiting for Uncle Barry."

Wally replied simply, almost stubbornly, in the tone of voice that suggested that he would be very loud and complain as much as possible if further urged to move from his waiting spot. Miss Spivot did neither of these things however, only straightening and sighing softly, directing an apologetic smile down at the young boy.

"I'm sorry Wally, your Uncle's out of town right now. Our boss gave him a few days off since he always works so hard, and he said he was going to go spend it out in Coast City to relax a little. He'll be back by the weekend."

... Why hadn't he told him about that? They'd talked for bits and pieces of conversation over the last days and weeks and stuff, just because he was avoiding the subject of his powers and how to control them that didn't mean they weren't _sorta _talking to some degree this whole time. It was just like that night he'd wanted to see the baseball game with him. Now he was randomly 'out of town'? Barry never left town! To 'relax'? That didn't sound like him at all! Even him accepting days off was weird for him. This was so stupid. Why was he always gone when he needed him the most? It wasn't _fair! _Did he just not _care _or something? If he really cared he would have been chasing after him this whole time instead of just letting him go off and eventually come back to him every now and then.

"Wally, are you alright...?"

He'd forgotten someone else was still here. Stumbling over his words and not even in the mood for talking any more, Wally looked away and mumbled.

"Y-yeah, fine... I'm fine."

Miss Spivot wasn't convinced.

"Let me give you a ride home, it's too late for you to be cycling alone all the way out here."

Wally was quick to get to his feet, pulling his bike upright and starting to wheel it away from both her and the police station. When he heard her make a move to follow him, he looked back over his shoulder and made his feelings quite clear.

"I'm _fine! _I can do it myself..."

Before she could protest, he mounted the bike and pedalled off as fast as he could.

He could do it himself.

That pretty much summed up how he was feeling right now. Who needed _adults _to help. He'd been doing just _fine _this whole time without him. Sure, not the earlier bits but, but since then he'd been managing it pretty darn well. He felt hurt, angry, and betrayed, in such a stupid illogical way that he just got more frustrated the more he thought about the whole thing. He didn't like feeling like this, so he was going to just move forward and ignore it. Continue what he had been doing, even once Barry came back. Even if Barry came looking for him. He'd do this his own way...

The ride home was fueled by and filled with these turbulent emotions, and as he dumped the bike unceremoniously around the back of the house, he sat down on the ground next to it moodily. He spent the next few minutes childishly stewing in his own agitation, complaining about others and things in general within his own head. Eventually, he took out the comm from under his watch and tapped out another message.

'Barry out of town :/ - KF'

He was too annoyed to even rant. Especially not on this miniscule keyboard anyway. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he allowed his head to fall back against the wheel of his bike with a dull _clank _as he closed his eyes and tried to think of awesome things instead of what was going on now...

...

...

_-bzzt-_

'Where? - ѵ '

...

'Coast City randomly :/ - KF '

...

_-bzzt-_

'Coast City, CA? - ѵ '

...

'yeah probly but idk, he like, never travels! - KF'

...

_-bzzt-_

'Weird. - ѵ '

...

'really weird, dude, but so yeah i can't talk to him - KF '

...

_-bzzt-_

'You had all the time to talk to him earlier, you know. - ѵ '

...

Wally's thumbs reached instinctively to the keyboard again to tap out an irritated retort, but he paused and managed to think better of it before even finishing the response. Unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't be either A) an irritated retort or B) admitting 'Izzy' was right for the umpteenth time, he just closed the application and tucked it back under his watch again to address later. Maybe. If he felt like it... Letting his head _thack _back against the metal wires of the bicycle wheel behind him, he directed his eyes skyward and watched a small herd of indigo clouds meander slowly across the star-speckled map above him. A thousand thoughts clicked through his head to various conclusions again, and for once they all shared a similar overall objective. It was quite a simple one, really. To just continue doing exactly as he had been doing and not care so much about whether Barry was involved or not. He'd proven himself capable of taking care of himself in these last couple of weeks. He'd show Barry, the newspaper people, the heroes, Nightwing, _all of them _that he could do this himself just fine.

Over the course of the following days and then one or two weeks, he did exactly that. Determined to show off again and surpass his elder speedster in public notoriety, he steadily picked up the pace in his troubling activities. He soon made public appearances in the afternoon and made a point of being noticed. He ran alongside 5pm rush hour traffic whilst spraying a long yellow line of graffiti along the doors of the inhabited cars. He ran into a supermarket and pushed out all the lines of trolleys out into the middle of the road. He stole handcuffs and belts right off of the backs of policemen and ran off with them. He ran into a succession of clothes stores and mixed up all their items and put them into other shops. He even ran all the way into the Mayor's office and flipped his desk in front of him with a humorously dramatized expression of rage to accompany it before fleeing the place again.

Suffice it to say, he was having the time of his life. The thrill of the wrongdoing, the chase, the reputation, was _infinitely _better than every other method he had used to serve the greed of his super speed. The way his heart pounded in his head from the rush of it all matched the pulsating surges of energy that shot through his body blow for blow, and it was the best feeling_ in the world_. The world of pain and vomiting and nausea and shaking and those terrifying 'meltdowns' seemed so, so far away...

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the City responded to him. Properly. He had wanted to be noticed and had desired attention; he received both of these. The press had caught on fire with the full public exposure and activity of 'Kid Flash', the juvenile compliment to the already reigning Menace of Momentum Central City had long since become familiar with. Columns filled with aggressive complaints and strong concerns about his age, his visible lack of proper control over his powers and his connection to The Flash. The Mayor, still affected by the personal intrusion on his quarters evidently, even made mention of him in one of his televised speeches. With this infamy came even personal effects, as Wally noted that ever since the first broadcasts on his actions his phone now held innumerable missed calls and texts from Barry. He didn't bother replying to any of them or calling back; he didn't even check them. After all, this was the point, wasn't it? It was going _awesomely! _He'd managed to create this much of a stir, by himself, without ever being caught, and with every petty crime committed it felt like the best thing in his life ever. He had this down.

Uncle Barry was just jealous.

What a thirteen year old boy didn't quite understand was the ramifications of this notoriety. In response to these public and political inclinations, the law cracked down on him. And they cracked down, _hard. _In the days following the Mayor's speech, policemen flooded Wally's usual 'areas' and favorite places to hang out in, they seemed to magically turn up any place he was at if he lingered there too long. Even the heroes like Cold, Wizard and Trickster were paying a lot more attention to him now. At first, naturally, he'd actually liked all of this. More pressure, more narrow escapes, more _rush!_ ... He thought he was being clever by turning this round of tighter constriction and closure upon his movements into just more fuel for his satisfaction. He definitely thought he was avoiding what the 'trapped' feeling from last time led to by using it for his benefit like that... But he simply had not calculated just how many of them there were in comparison to _him_. He didn't realize how much more experience they had, nor how much better they knew this city and its roads. Most importantly, he had failed to anticipate just how badly they wanted to get to him.

Was it _because _he was a child...?

When he looked back on it later, he realized that it must have been that.

Whatever the case was, he was here now.

The definition of 'here', in this case, meant at the end of a rat race involving one hundred and forty-eight reroutes, twelve blockades, three superheroes, and fifty two policemen. Any way he had sought out of this residential area had been blocked off at every route, causing him to turn heel and run in the opposite direction each time. Every time he encountered the obstacles his increasingly panicked mind noted that the barriers and people had moved in closer. The net was closing in and he was going to get tangled in it and he wouldn't be able to get out. He was finding it hard to breathe, his throat constricted as though a rope were tightening around it with a merciless, merciless grip. His own body had come to expect too much from him. It was used to more. It wanted more. It _demanded _more. More that he couldn't give it as he could now only run some hundreds of feet before having to stop and turn back again. The energy was roaring through his body like a starved beast and all his mind could think about was jail cells and small tiny dark places that amounted to the size of a closet. His breath was now coming in gasps, and he could feel the sweat pouring down the sides of his face under his bandana. One of his knees buckled without warning and almost sent him tumbling along the road, saved only by a lightning fast correcting through his reflexes. Skidding around a corner he bolted down a side road, and then down an alley that would lead to-

-a dead end.

His heart stopped dead as the mental map he had constructed of this area he was supposed to know so well crumbled beneath his eyes. He was gonna be sick, he was gonna be sick, he was gonna be- No, no no no nononono this was not the time to stop and panic. Swallow the nausea. He had to keep running. Had to had to had to keep running. He swiveled on heel but something went wrong in his leg and he saw the world turn the wrong way up. Pain rocketed throughout his body as he crashed downwards into a collection of crates, the impact of this and the excess energy compounded at once to rack his pain receptors and disorient him entirely. Arcs of lightning snapped furiously at his entire body. No, no now he wasn't moving at all, he was lying here, it wasn't enough motion. He needed to move. It would eat him alive, it was _eating him alive_. In his delusions he heard someone heaving desperately in an absolute distress and he blindly looked around, wanting to try and help them even despite everything. It took a few moments of clumsy searching to realize the one he was wanting to try and help was himself.

An attempt to force himself upright only resulted in a cry of pain as a raw bout of unreleased energy bit deep into his spine and caused him only to crumple backwards again. Limbs spasming uncontrollably and twitching in a tangle this way and that way, his head lolled from side to side as he attempted to focus his eyes in this cover of darkness so kindly provided by the very early hours of the morning. In the light of the opening of the alleyway he finally saw a something. A something that was... actually two somethings, and coming closer... slowly... Wally tried to say something at it, but all he heard come out were vague noises and sounds. The somethings took human shape, tall, adults, wearing similar things... ... Police... They stopped at a distance, looking at him, saying things he couldn't quite hear. He couldn't run, so instead he tried to hide, flopping his chronically shaking arms uselessly over the rest of his partially covered face. His vision began to shadow at the edges and his head was spinning, but panic erupted within him and he continued trying and failing desperately to get up, words tumbling out of his mouth without proper formulation.

"_Don't... takeme 'way... dun... don't... take, please... don't take_..."

His imaginative mind froze on fictional constructs he knew of, as though trying to scare him into every and any action that his body simply could not provide any more. Jail. Holding cells. Solitary confinement. Bars, barred windows, walls, walls everywhere, no room, no space, no running, trapped, trapped, trapped. Through the gap between his arms he could see their mouths were still moving wordlessly at him, they were taking a step closer, oh no, oh god no please no. Unable to even right himself he attempted to scrabble backwards, only managing to collapse further into the mess of splintering wood that currently lay underneath him. They said something again and came at him again, his ears were still ringing and his body was burning alive and he couldn't feel himself breathing any more. Everything was burning.

And smoke erupted in front of him.

The plumes of artificial fog enveloped the figures in front of him within its quiet folds, obscuring them from his view entirely. Wally was now struggling violently against the overpowering call of his mind to just let his exhaustion swallow him whole. Even as he felt his body slacken around him and the numbness reached into his eyes, he tried desperately to see. He wasn't sure what was reality and what was his failing vision, but all he saw from that wafting screen of grey was the flit of shadows. Something had dropped from above. Something fell, maybe another. Something was coming up to him out of his peripheral vision, and then there was a shock of feeling again as something bit into his outer thigh. The world fell away into a whirlpool of pointlessness. Wally saw the starry sky above him, and then he saw nothing.


	5. Nightmare

Crawling out of a hole from hibernation and seeing light for the first time in months was not exactly the kind of life cycle that Wally West ever thought he would empathize with. As it was, when a sense of consciousness graced his being again and light gradually filtered underneath his eyelids, the kid speedster felt first and only the aftermath of an absolute torpor upon his body. Limbs as heavy as lead, eyelids refusing to even twitch even as he willed them to, there was a weight to his whole body that seemed to refute any notion of motion. He hurt all over. Everything, _everything _hurt so much he couldn't even process it... He could barely even feel his legs...

... He wasn't entirely sure how much time passed before he could even just open his eyes. It felt like a far too large number of minutes, but when he did all he received in return was a flood of more light. This brightness eventually mellowed into a soft vague darkness, all but for two white spots that were dead ahead in his vision. Shapes took form as his focus slowly returned, shades of black mapping out above the white spots, a beige pallor all around it...

It was a face.

It couldn't have been more than an inch from his own.

A wild fear clawed into him and he felt his body seize up in a split second panic. As if responding directly to this far too immediate presence, his senses urgently snapped him back into a sharp reality and the world cleared around him.

He could have guessed.

_Nightwing. _

Wally allowed himself to calm down, his muscles loosened in response and he relaxed. Groggily, he attempted to make casual conversation with the other boy.

"_Nnhh... H-hey, Izzy..._"

He managed a tired, lopsided grin up at him as he said this.

...

No. Something was wrong.

Nightwing was smiling back down at him... but it was a very, very, _wrong _smile. There was a twist in it that wrenched it into a sick grin, the corners of it upturned into a cruel smirk.

He wasn't saying a word.

The expression was fixed upon his face, and the absolute stillness with which he held it combined with the proximity of it to his own was more than slightly unnerving the speedster.

"_I-Izzy..? ... Nightwing, a-are you ok-..._"

He could barely finish his sentence, nerves were catching up in his throat and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristle with frigid anxiety. It was at that exact moment that he became aware of a sensation from somewhere underneath his chin. A distinct metallic coolness was shoved savagely up into the skin there, a slight movement as it was driven further forward under there to the point of forcing his head back confirmed this. He dared to look down.

Gun.

Gun.

There was a gun pressed underneath his head.

He could feel his body dive into a cold shock, seizing violently as his mind ceased comprehending information. A freezing rush screamed up his spine and stole away his ability to breathe, he vaguely heard a sound catch itself in terror before it properly left him; a whimper. Stricken with horror he withdrew entirely and refuted the reality of this fact, vision closed on him and blackness enveloped again as instinct scrunched his eyes shut. It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. A feeble attempt to distance himself from the threat by a tilt of his head only earned yet another slow grind of the gun's barrel into his jaw. The sound that accompanied it made that simple movement an experience he would never forget.

_Laughing_.

Demented, high-pitched cackling that would break off only to start up again as the weapon continued to tease and push.

The dead weight of an armored knee cap was pressing down mercilessly on his chest and preventing him from breathing properly, a spare hand coated in black metal and fabric had clutched viciously onto his exposed throat and was tightening its grip as the other continued to hold the gun into his jaw, he could feel his breath on his face and the deranged giggling only increased with every display of fear he showed... And all his own body could do was shake incessantly in utter terror. He wanted to run, he could run, he couldn't run, he needed to run. His legs were shuddering and a pronounced feeling of them flooded to and fro from his comprehension, there was so much energy but it was thundering right through him. He needed to move but he didn't want to. Because he was so scared, because he couldn't, because...

He wanted to ask him why he was doing this. He wanted to ask him what he was going to do with him. He wanted to ask him whether he was going to... He wanted to say just something, but anything he tried came out as a whine or half-cry instead. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to _die_. Oh god god no no no no please no no why why stop _why_-

"... _Don't you remember what I said...?_"

A child's whisper spoke gently into his ear.

Even with his head turned away from him and his eyes squeezed shut, he could feel tears pricking and threatening to expose his utter helplessness.

" '_Talk to your Uncle... Or I'll kill you.' _"

The boy quoted himself softly, a slight giggle trailing the end of his sentence.

Wally could feel the presence at his ear withdraw, upwards, and the gun stiffened in its position. He waited for it. The click. The flash. The pain. Anything and everything he'd seen in movies before this point. He wondered what it would feel like. Would it hurt? Would it be quick? Please god let it be quick... There were so many questions he had and only seconds left to live. Only one thing he could do...

He waited for it.

...

...

...

"_Gotcha_."

A voice chimed. Lightly, _teasingly_. Wally didn't move, he was still waiting for 'it' to happen. It was a trick. It was a joke. A reprieve before the inevitable. He'd open his eyes just to see that horrible, _horrible _smile again. It was over, it was over, it was all over.

The weight that had been pinning him down this whole time lifted from his chest and he instinctively sucked in a grateful gasp of air, only to turn and curl in on himself as an immediate defensive measure. The string of nightmarish giggles promptly started up again, but it was oddly further away this time. A significant amount so, actually... After some mental preparation and self-persuasion, Wally dared to peek an eye open. Nothing except what looked like the rest of the roof of whatever building he must be on right now... He uncurled only slightly and glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of where the very entertained snickers were coming from.

Nightwing was over there, maybe a few meters from where he was, standing side-on to him and holding the gun up near his face in a manner that suggested he had just been tinkering with it. His amused expression however, was directed back over to meet Wally's deathly pale, vividly sweating face. Once their visions crossed, Wally seized up just as Nightwing turned to him slightly, waving the gun around nonchalantly and lifting his fingers from it to fully reveal its body to him. Cocking his head to one side, Nightwing's expression warped into a..._ 'playful' _grin.

"You're so _funny_. There wasn't even a _magazine _in it this whole time."

He may as well have said, 'It was just a joke'.

Drawing on a most eloquent knowledge of movies and TV, Wally knew vaguely where to look for confirmation. Sure enough, there was a very notable gap of nothing where the rest of the... holdy-bit was meant to be. The bit that he always saw the cool cop characters dropping out before shoving another one in there. ... It had never been a real threat, it had never contained any actual _bullets_... This was soon rectified, as Nightwing turned back to the weapon and efficiently returned to it its ample ammunition. Checking the safety, he gave it a quick twirl between his nimble fingers before slotting it effortlessly back into the holster at his right thigh. It was hard not to stare at it, after all that... Wally quickly attempted to avert his eyes, allowing his gaze to land instead upon a sight that was just as disconcerting as that. A small open case nearby containing a number of emptied syringes and what looked like... EpiPens...? Was that what they were called? It was only then that he registered that the other boy was still talking to him...

"-been out for twenty three hours. The shots I gave you were enough to stabilize your condition, but I wasn't sure whether that excess energy just burned out for good or whether it would resurface in your immobile state of unconsciousness... ..."

He trailed off idly, as though pondering whether and how to continue. As though recalling something that might be somewhat important, he gathered himself again and looked to Wally directly. A curious smirk flitted across his expression.

"How're you feeling...?"

...

Wally wanted to be angry. Wanted to hate him, yell at him, run from him. Have nothing more to do with him ever again. At least, that's what his instincts were telling him. The part of him that was slowly reforming a semblance of thought pattern and going through the motions of what had happened since when he could last remember thinking straight, was gradually coming to its own conclusion. The alleyway, the 'meltdown', the police, the smoke... Then... That. He tried to speak, but his lips quivered and only a mumble fell out. Nightwing was waiting patiently, so he tried again, ignoring the thrilled shake in his legs and the drumming beat of his heart resounding in his eardrums.

"... G-... ... _G_-... _G_-_gun_."

The dark haired boy seemed bemused by the single word, but caught on pretty quickly.

"Oh, that? It's simple really, haven't you figured it out yet...?"

The Gotham bred visitor folded his arms across his small chest and angled a particularly, deliberately infuriating all-knowing smirk in Wally's direction. As he began to elaborate, Wally put a hand to his head and made the first necessary vague movements to lift himself into some kind of a sitting position.

"As I was saying, you were out for a while, even after the artificial doses of adrenaline I gave you. You know, siphons off that extra energy you feel compelled to get rid of all the time. ... ... ... What."

Wally must have been staring over at him with a very certain look, because now Nightwing was staring right back at him with a similarly confused expression. The speedster barely managed to express his thought process. He couldn't comprehend. He was scared witless, beyond stunned, and admiringly impressed all at once.

"... H-... _How_-..."

Thankfully, he didn't need to finish before the little soldier caught on and spun it out himself.

"Really? Come on, it was _obvious_. Your acquired powers are the same as those of The Flash, your _Uncle_, who before he gained them held a ghostly empty criminal record and worked in the forensics department for the police. He _still _works there. So that meant, logically, that his powers altered his behavior to lean that way for some reason. Just like it was only after you got yours that you started running around town doing stuff that would get you into trouble. Right?"

It was a rhetorical question, Wally didn't even have the time to react before Nightwing simply continued. This was perhaps a good thing, as he was still stuck in a stunned stupor staring across at him as though he had come from another planet.

"I confirmed this the night you met me. Your motives only match your age mentality, you were just as happy to spend a night messing around the museum for fun. You just wanted the activity, kinda badly. The second night you came across me, I'd been watching the whole time as your powers started eating your legs up, like you were having a-..."

"Meltdown..."

Wally interjected softly, frowning and looking to the ground distractedly.

Nightwing smirked again.

"_Thought _you'd have come up with a name for it by now. 'Meltdown', then. Tracking your movements since the night in the museum, I made a note that you'd been getting out a lot less, turns out this has a bad effect on you. But the weird thing was when I apparently startled you and you began talking to me, your physical state sorta got better over time. By the time I met you in the park after challenging you and startling you again, the earlier problems you'd been having had disappeared. So much so that we spent that whole night pretty much sitting there by that lake. Remember? The fact you sat still through an entire baseball game after I scared you to death with the way I got you up there also gave me that idea. You were terrified of me, and apparently because of that you were able to sit still for longer than usual. That fear must have been substituting for something else that's also involved in tireless activity."

This was the most he had ever, ever heard Nightwing talk. Besides everything else, this fact alone was also subduing him into an awed silence. He felt like he could do nothing other than hang with fascination from the ends of these conclusions as they tumbled out as effortlessly as water from a tap...

"Then when I saw the news reels of you amping up your 'petty' crimes and just getting more and more into it, it all sorta came together and I could see you falling into exactly the same pattern as Barry Allen. It must have meant that activity felt _better _than what you'd been doing _before_. Pleasuring, otherwise why would you keep doing it and blatantly endanger yourself with the law around here? At the same time, I could guess you'd been experiencing less of those 'meltdowns' as you kept at it. So, this energy is taken away by something that activates and is most prevalent when you're scared, pressured, in vigorous motion... When you feel like you're in danger, or presented with a threat."

Nightwing's smirk broadened again, and after spending a lot of his conversation gesturing, he once more folded his arms affirmatively over his body armor and shrugged easily.

"Hypothesis? Your powers run themselves primarily off _adrenaline. _The fight-or-flight response thing. The fact you stabilized after I gave you those initial shots, and that your condition has _significantly _improved since I scared the living daylights out of you with a gun that wasn't even loaded, pretty much proves it, don't you think...?"

It was only at that moment that Wally took especial note of the fact he was now sitting up, feeling perfectly fine but for the fact his heart was still thundering in his chest like a tropical storm trapped in a balloon. Putting a hand to his chest, Wally doubled over slightly and lifted the other to his sweat drenched brow. Recent memories were hazily coming back to him again; the something that he'd felt intrude into his thigh before he'd passed out, feeling only pain as he'd woken up and an emptiness throughout his legs... Glancing down at his feet, he watched them as he shifted his legs from side to side and bended them at the knee, stretching them out again... That whole experience had sent that chemical coursing through his system again, had put him on edge. It was something that he had found _thrilling_. His body was salivating with anticipation, captivated by the thrill of the imminent danger that had been before him. He was... excited.

Heh, yeah. That was it, wasn't it...

A slew of realizations crashed down upon his young mind, and it took some conscious effort to not let his thoughts be swept away by them. In response to all of it, everything, just as he had dealt with Nightwing before, he... laughed. Shakily laughed it all off, wrapping his arms around his stomach and doubling over in his utterly disbelieving humor. He'd recalled that he'd given up trying to fight the multitude of reservations his common sense held over his interactions with this boy. He recalled that they had decided to be friends. He realized now that in all of what had just happened, a horrifying incident he may very well carry to his grave, the other boy had been _helping him _the entire time. Maybe even _saving _him, in that most bizarre, twisted of ways. It was so stupid. So dumb. So weird and bizarre and all wrong that it was _hysterical_. He probably owed him his life. For rescuing him from detainment by the law, not to mention for actively stabilizing his energy levels in the interim period. It was so lucky that Nightwing had already figured his powers out...

It was... lucky.

_He _was lucky.

... To have him as a friend...

He wanted Nightwing to know that.

"I-... _Izzy_..."

Wally managed between his mirthful expressions, wiping tears of fear and laughter from his eyes as he spoke. Nightwing seemed to physically perk at the use of that odd personal nick name again, aiming a cool self-assured smile over at his friend.

"Mm?"

Wally finally managed to gather himself together again enough to compose something resembling a sentence. He opened his eyes again and looked over to Nightwing as he delivered it.

"You're... You're pretty cool."

That weird smile only broadened quirkily on the other boy's face.

"You're not too bad yourself, _'KF'_."

. - . - .

It only took a few more minutes of recuperation, mostly from the terror of his waking moments rather than any remaining physical debilitation, before Wally got to his feet. Nightwing was quick to unveil a stash of 'acquired' gallon bottles of water and a good heap of energy bars and foods, the kinds of things hikers take up with them into the mountains. After wolfing down the whole lot within some minutes, a concerning thought on a recent memory suddenly occurred to him. Taking a tentative gulp of water, he'd looked to Nightwing and asked,

"The police back there... ... Did you-... Are they-..."

"They're fine."

Nightwing literally waved off, absently looking elsewhere to suggest he wasn't very interested in pursuing details, or the matter in general. With this in mind, there wasn't much else he could do than take him for his word. He... He believed him, anyway. With that concern somewhat eased, Wally freely invited further conversation on recent happenings in general. Or to Nightwing's pressing interest, _non_-happenings. The subject of Wally asking Barry for help was pushed forward with renewed vigor, and this time, Wally capitulated without a single attempted reason against the notion. The mention of Barry however made him think of something kinda really important. He had been out of it for a whole _day_, he guessed the majority of it had probably been spent holed up in something like a secret base Nightwing more than likely had set up in the city. Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry were probably worried sick wondering where he'd gone.

"Dude, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to go tell Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry that I'm oka-"

"Done."

Wally blinked, mouth left gaping dumbly in confusion before he endeavored to speak again.

"What-"

"Already done."

Nightwing stated again simply. Seeing that he would once again need to explain, he humored the ginger speedster with an easy admitting of his most recent antics.

"I faked your handwriting, slipped some notes where they live and work. Said you were exhausted from stuff yesterday evening and had crashed at a friend's place for the night, just mentioned you'd see and talk to them later... Even your Uncle would have gotten his by now."

Already quelling an overwhelming urge to state that the rest he could handle but imitating his writing and even knowing what it looked like in the first place was a whole new creepy level, he knew he was more interested in the information available to him and so focused on extracting as much as he could. Wally thus only raised an eyebrow at the final sentence, leading to further elaboration. A certain intrigue and curiosity crossed Nightwing's face as he spoke, suggesting he held a fair amount of particular interest in what he said next.

"Your Uncle must have heard about the plan to catch you from somewhere in his department, he tried to get to you last night before they did. 'The Flash' was caught by a detachment of police guarding one of the posts of that 'encirclement' they'd marked out for you. They dragged him off to jail with charges of obstruction in the enforcement of the law."

He must have appeared visibly worried, as Nightwing held up a gloved hand as though to still his train of thought before it even departed for god-knows-where.

"They released him this morning. 'Captain Cold' apparently threw a fit over the flimsy charges and defended him, bringing up the facts that he hasn't committed any crimes since his previous release and was only out there trying to help _you_. In fact the 'heroes' of this city all seemed pretty unhappy about how that night was handled."

Wally found this to be a pleasant reassurance.

"They... They weren't in on it? ... But I ran into them, that same night in the same area..."

"Were there ever police with them?"

He shook his head, Nightwing nodded curtly and continued.

"Exactly. They were probably also trying to get to you before the police did, apparently they don't trust certain members of the department to treat either of you appropriately with due consideration of your powers. It's all over the news, you'll see it next time you turn on a TV."

Well, that was the valid explanation to how he'd known all _that_, at least.

"... He'd have gotten your 'note' by now though, your Uncle. Actually, I know he has. Made sure he did. Seems like it's had the right effect on him anyway, he's apparently relaxed enough to go out tonight with that guy again..."

Wally's interests were most definitely, most entirely piqued by this latest tidbit.

"What guy?"

He asked immediately, curiosity creeping up on him in delightfully childish waves.

Nightwing seemed far too pleased to be asked this, and enlightened him with a tone that suggested he was just as interested in all this as Wally was.

"Hector Hammond, of _Coast City, CA_."

The name of the city rang bells in Wally's head, and he subconsciously inclined towards the other boy, as if literally hanging on his words and awaiting the next exciting installment of information. The tone in which Nightwing was speaking sure sounded like it wasn't just a joke of his or a way to string him along for fun, it _sounded _like he'd been _waiting _to reveal this to him for a while.

"Theoretical astrophysicist for Ferris Aircraft, currently involved in research for alternative fuel sources. Your _Uncle _has been meeting up with him for quite a while now."

Nightwing simpered at him coyly, arching a brow from underneath that mask.

"And apparently, you had no idea of this..."

Wally threw his hands up into the air in mock helplessness.

"How was I supposed to know! We haven't talked to each other properly for a really long time... How do _you _even know..."

That simper, now almost expectant, failed to depart from Nightwing's face.

...

Oh. Right. ... Figures.

... Wait. He wasn't really comfortable with that.

"You've been _spying _on my _Uncle _**too**? Dude, _not cool_."

It was the first time Wally had ever taken a seriously stronger tone with him. Without even thinking about it, he hadn't held back on the bitter disapproval in his voice, nor the unforgiving harsh undertones of his delivery. A severe frown crossed his face as he said this, and he had subconsciously folded his arms for effect. The overall countenance was something Nightwing had never seen, nor expected from him, and this fact showed in the way that he seemed slightly taken aback by it. His stance became defensive at once, but his expression faltered oddly into a blank slate. His voice promptly matched it in its emptiness.

"Why."

...

"I didn't hurt anyone."

As though that was the only possible marker for fallibility. Wally leaned forward slightly and let his mouth fall open, on the cusp of delivering a lecture about privacy, common respect and social decency... But it never really came to fruition. The deeply contemplative part of his mind stopped him quite abruptly before he even formed the first words. He remembered who he was talking to, he remembered how much he actually had yet to understand about him, he remembered that he actually owed him something equivalent to his own life now; he took this context and re-examined his approach. No, it was the wrong approach, and the wrong time for it. He straightened again and let out a long, relaxing sigh as he cleared his mind and adjusted its thinking away from his more socially normative reactions. What was the harm, after all. He was also just a kid. And he was right, it wasn't like he'd _hurt _anyone... Thinking about it, it... really wasn't that bad then, was it... Harmless, really. Just a kid's spying game, even he did it all the time. Any kid their age did...

"Yeah... You're right. Just messing with you, Izzy. You sure fell for it though. Because _actually_, I really want you to spill on this. Come on, tell me more!"

Wally ended enthusiastically, his shifting attitude must have been infectious, because Nightwing immediately perked up again as well. It was all in good honesty anyway. Wally did actually _really _want to know more about this, like any child with any imaginative curiosity would be concerning his favorite and the best Uncle in the whole wide world. And as previously noted, Nightwing evidently _really _wanted to fill him in on it. It all seemed like a big game to him, in the way he talked about these meet ups that had been happening between the two people in these cities for the past few months. This only further assuaged Wally's concerns about all the spying, as he too saw it from the viewpoint of a kid just tip-toeing around adults and gossiping about their silly ways to their friends. Because, that's just what kids their age do, right?

It soon caught up once more to the point in the story where his Uncle Barry was actually meeting up with this same astrophysicist guy _again, tonight. _By now enthused with a youthful exuberance at the idea of spying on one of his idol figures for the fun of it, Wally urged Nightwing to tell him what the two were probably up to now. Mentioning that finding out would be as easy as hacking into the CCTV system of Central City- which was apparently, very easy-, Nightwing had taken but a few moments to divulge that they were currently strolling in the Englewood district, in a park that held scenic views of the nearby Granite Peak National Park. The decision was promptly made without any words exchanged; merely the swapped expressions of two boys eager for adventure.

They agreed to meet back up again atop a certain building overlooking that park, the one with the best view of it. Wally mentioned he'd have to make a quick detour after all, and uh, 'change out of his Kid Flash costume'. Aka, run back home, dump his bandana and switch his 'Flash' t-shirt for another one and then run back. Adhering to this plan of theirs, he did exactly that. Once they reconvened on that cafe's rooftop, they were quick to adopt suitable viewing positions. Lying on their stomachs, they propped themselves up using their elbows in order to peek over the lip of the flat roof. It wasn't long at all before Wally complained that he couldn't really see anything, which was soon rectified by Nightwing 'lending him' a pair of night vision binoculars he just happened to have with him. Apparently, this kid was prepared for kinda literally anything. As he exhibited his excitement over such a cool device and put it to his eyes, Wally absently wondered whether Nightwing even had supplies for an emergency nuclear winter stored in that belt thing of his... ...

A good time passed whilst they simply followed the two adults as they meandered through the park, would stop, chat, move on, stop, sit down, chat more. They added their own commentary throughout the entire thing, making up their own dialogue and sniggering about it all in the most innocently immature ways. Developments made for excitement, there was even a moment where that Hammond person seemed to stop and look back over his shoulder, vaguely in their direction. Trying to stifle their giggles they had flattened themselves down against the roof, trying not to look at the other in their own sniggering lest they themselves burst out into laughter. Only resurfacing after a 'safe' amount of time, the entertainment continued for as long as an hour after.

Time seemed to lull especially once the adults had stopped at a bench and seemed to engage in an apparently pretty serious conversation about something. After this went on and nothing else seemed to be happening, the two kids found themselves laxing off their spying and just talking about other things instead. Stuff about the National Park beyond, the reason why 'Granite' was in its name, about the cool animals you could find in there, about cool animals in general... It was only after a similar lull in their conversation that Nightwing's tone changed ever so slightly, becoming slightly more serious himself, but retaining a pensive, light intonation that eased the idea he put forward next.

"You should talk to him now."

Cottoning on to what he was talking about, Wally shook both his head and hands in a total negative reaction to the idea.

"_What_? Dude, he's with _someone else _right now! I can't just go up to him and, you know, mention all that stuff in front of that other guy..."

"You don't have to."

Nightwing stated bluntly; Wally imagined that behind that mask, he was staring at him with the most insistent logical expression.

"Just arrange a time later tonight for when you can talk. If you do it now, you'll get it over with."

It was common sense. But naturally, Wally still held reservations. If this Coast City guy was important to Barry, then... He wasn't sure whether he wanted to meet him yet. If he was _ready _to meet him yet... How much did he _know _about Barry anyway. And how much did he know about _him_, too, come to think. He was already getting a bit nervous, as if in advance, and the more he thought about it the more he became sure he wasn't going to do it...

"You scared?"

He glanced over just in time to meet Nightwing's teasingly smug, smirking expression.

Yes. No. Maybe. No. Definitely no.

"_No_."

Wally's mouth answered stubbornly for him, gathering up what pride a thirteen year old boy held dearly to his most manly of chests. But that had sealed it. He couldn't go back on that claim now, his brain was fresh out of lame excuses why he couldn't, either. Agh, darn it, he'd gotten him _again_. Fine, he'd show him. Apparently Izzy could guess his thought processes, because that smirk just grew wider and wider the longer the silence after his bravado lasted. Huffing with childish agitation, he got to his feet and dusted his front off, looking down at the other boy with a moody pout.

"M'not _scared_, I was just... _thinking_..."

Nightwing apparently found that amusing.

Whatever.

With another huff and a careless wave, he sped over to the fire escape set of ladders at the side of the building and hopped down them until he reached the ground. As his sneakers hit the asphalt below, he smoothed over the temptation to kick off running at full speed towards them. Showing off and getting his metabolic euphoria _isn't _what he was here for. Rather, something tending towards the opposite. Taking in a deep calming breath, he began running into the park at a speed entirely normal for a boy his age. Having been spying on them from above, he knew exactly where to find them, which was very helpful. As he spotted them through the trees another bout of nerves and hesitation threatened his mind, but he steeled himself against them and continued pressing forward. Once he had broken out into the open, in plain sight of them both, it was too late to turn back.

"... _Wally_?"

Barry's voice called out to him as soon as his eyes had set upon his form; within the next second the man had turned and was running towards him. Wally slowed instinctively as his mind attempted to speedily process what tone Barry's exclamation had taken. Was he going to be mad at him? Would he yell at him? Or tell him off? Was he just worried...? Before Wally could come to any sure conclusion, he felt gentle weights come down upon his two shoulders. Looking up, his eyes locked on to the man's face. He took a moment just to soak in its various familiar features again; it'd been too long since he'd seen him up close like this... He immediately remembered why he looked up to him so much, and why he adored him like he did. His expression was directed entirely by his concern, the grip upon his shoulders held enough strength to be secure but were just loose enough to be kind. It was the most comforting thing in the world, and in that moment Wally knew for sure that everything was going to be okay...

"... _Umm_... Hi...! ..."

Wally announced awkwardly, a sheepish grin adorning his face as he reached a hand up and scratched at his cheek idly.

"Long time uh, no see..."

He was trying his best to be coolly casual, but it wasn't working out as well as he was hoping. It was a little overwhelming to be face-to-face with Barry again after all that had happened, after having ran from him for so long... The way Barry was holding onto his shoulders sure did seem to suggest that the older man never wanted to let go again, lest he lose him from his sights once more...

"... Wally."

Barry simply said again, as though the sound of the name and his ability to say it to the boy's face was a comfort to him in some way. His expression shifted into one of a sterner vein, but through his eyes Wally could see it was just bred from that same worry from before. Ah man, had he really worried him _that _much...

"Are you-..."

"I'm fine! Uh, really good actually! Um, sorry for interrupting you whilst you were talking to uh..."

Wally had interjected for him quickly, brushing off all concerns and swelling his chest with boyish pride at his apparent ability to take care of himself. Well. Sort of. Barry didn't have to know about the _details _of what had transpired between last night and now. Not yet at least. Best uh, just let him assume natural capability having a hand in that. Wally had however broken off again as he began to refer to Barry's acquaintance, and inevitably his gaze strayed over to where the other man was still sitting. In a respectful gesture the stranger had remained where he had been before, taking an interest in his natural surroundings rather than needlessly involving himself or attempting to listen in on what must have looked like the very personal interaction this was.

"To uh... That guy."

Wally decided on. He wasn't supposed to know his name yet, after all.

"But, I need to- I want to talk to you, is that okay? Maybe later tonight or something, whenever you want to. I mean, if that's okay with you and everything, uh..."

He looked up again, and to his delight, Barry's initially surprised expression shifted into a softly relieved smile. He still looked old and haggard from all his worrying, but apparently something in what Wally had said... or maybe the whole lot of it, had lifted a veritable amount of that weight from the man's shoulders. He gave the boy's shoulders a slight affirmative squeeze, and nodded once in a quiet motion.

"I've been hoping you'd say that for a while now. Took your time, didn't you kiddo."

The man took his hands off Wally's shoulders and used one of them to ruffle the kid's hair instead, still smiling that gentleman's smile.

"Sure thing. I'll swing by your Aunt Iris' once I finish up here, how does that sound?"

Wally gave his answer through a jubilant grin and a heartfelt exclamation,

"Perfect!"

It really was, too. At least, the way in which his heart had steadied itself and his confidence had started to swell again in response to this seemed to suggest it. It was sorted, then. In the end, there hadn't been anything to be afraid of after all. Well, with that done, he could run back to Izzy and shove his scaredy-cat comments back in his fac-

"Oh Wally, while you're here, I'd like to introduce you to someone..."

... Crap.

Crap crap crap. First he had to address Barry properly for the first time in weeks upon weeks, and now he had to do the whole meeting a stranger-friend of his Uncle's again? Really? _Really_? He's already done it with like, Barry's entire contingent at the police station! Not to mention all of Iris' friends at the Picture News, and the people that had come over to his parents' house, and-

"Wally, this is Hector Hammond, an astrophysicist at the top of his field. Hec, this is my nephew, Wally."

... Something must have happened whilst he had been flashing back through the hoards of adult friends of people he's been introduced to in the past, because somehow he had already been guided over to the bench area where the two had been sitting and was now looking into the face of that Hector guy. He could feel Barry's hand on his shoulder again, and though that was a comfort as it always was, he found himself momentarily lost for words. This was mostly because he had finally noticed something wasn't quite right with the fact he was almost eye-level with this guy when he hadn't been sitting on the bench. He was still sitting, but... oh... ... ... He'd... only just remembered about that... And now it was hard to ignore... A creeping instinctive guilt and sympathy clutched at his voice and he struggled consciously to do his best _not to stare _at the chair. Or the legs. Or the wheels on the chair. Or- Just look at his face. His _**face**_.

To his great relief, Mr Hammond apparently found words to say faster and more comfortably than he did.

"Nice to meet you, Wally."

His voice was soft, pleasantly so. He wore a smile as he spoke, one that felt at once _real_. He held an entirely unthreatening countenance that put the boy at an immediate ease. Wally felt his body relax from its previously stiffened state, limbs dangling loosely and even pausing in their ceaseless fidgeting as he found himself re-evaluating this guy. In a delayed realization, he noticed that Hector had held out his hand for him to shake. Taking it gingerly, he shook it awkwardly and made sure to keep looking into his eyes to distract himself from that... disability...

"I've heard so much about you."

Hector offered with honest friendliness, however Wally's mind instinctively began to balk. Here we go again. Just like how all the other meetings with all the other grown-ups went. Was he going to talk to him about his grades? What he was thinking of doing when he was older? His favorite subject? His hobbies? Why was it always the _same_, it was so _boring_-

"Is it _true _you know the entire Periodic Table off by _heart_?"

There was an entirely _genuine _enthusiasm to Hector's inquiry.

Wally, being who he was, was too eager to impress.

"By atomic number, group and period!"

He blurted out with matching enthusiasm.

"I also know the atomic mass of every element! And- and I know a bunch of isotopes too!"

His hands were already clutched into small fists at his sides from sheer expression of his excitement at the topic; the way Hector immediately inclined forward from his seated position and how his smile broadened seemed to suggest he was similarly enthused.

"That's _incredible_! And at your age? Tell me Wally, when will I be seeing you in our department. Ten years? Five?"

This overwhelming praise invoked a beaming happiness from the thirteen year old. Promptly forgetting all previous reservations and losing all distracting thoughts from before within the passion for his favorite subject, Wally embarked on his own line of questioning.

"You're an _astrophysicist_, right?"

"One of the best."

Barry interjected, a charming smile accompanying the statement.

"That's. So. _Cool!_"

Wally effused enthusiastically, throwing his hands up into the air for emphasis. Hector, for his part, seemed to have been made somewhat shy and modest what with all the absolutely unrestrained approbation being directed to his person. Hesitating and mentioning offhandedly that he was far from the best and that there were many more talented individuals out there, Wally was quick to refute him in the idea that _anything _was _cooler _than an _**astrophysicist**_- because come on even the _name _sounded _so __**cool**_-, while Barry just casually mentioned some facts about his work that indicated otherwise. These casual facts only riled Wally's intellectual curiosities even more, and Hector soon found himself bombarded with all the questions the vivid imagination of a thirteen year old fascinated with every science could even produce.

As he attempted to keep up and answer each one to the best of his abilities, Barry would shoot Hector small humored expressions reminiscent of 'I told you'. The astrophysicist didn't seem to mind though, at all, and would just ponder and answer each inquiry with his own honest line of thought. The quantity of grins elicited from Wally were only equaled by the smiles that formed on Hector's face. It was only after a sizable chunk of time that Barry finally mentioned that it wasn't like he'd never see Hector again, so he didn't have to feel the need to try and expunge in a single night every mystery that continues to torment scientific communities around the world. This had earned a gentle laugh from Hector, and Wally evidently got the hint, but seemed to struggle to contain himself or his now entirely riled energy. Barry suggested lightly he maybe 'go for a run, clear his head for a bit', and he'd see him at Iris'.

Catching note of the serious advice in there, Wally finally let up, turning back to Hector and offering an absent wave of his hand and one of his usual dorky smiles in goodbye.

"See you again sometime, Mr Hammond!"

Mr Hammond was about to offer that he could just call him Hector, but the boy had already turned his back and was running off at an average speed in the direction which he had come from just earlier. Neglecting to call Wally back for a proper exchange of farewells, Barry instead simply turned back to Hector and offered him an apologetic smile. As Wally delved back between the trees of the park he heard the two chuckling and talking in a warm tone of voice, but he noted that he'd dawdled long enough. He'd forgotten that someone had been waiting for him this whole time.

Climbing up the flights of emergency stairs to the cafe building, he clambered onto the roof again and looked over to where he had left Nightwing. Sure enough the Boy Soldier was still there, now lying on his back and looking up to the stars, one glove-encased hand resting behind his head whilst the other held a sleek butterfly knife above his head and flicked it idly in and out of its casing. Not wanting to break his concentration lest the knife slip and fall on his face, Wally took only a step forward and-

"Hey."

Nightwing greeted offhandedly; his gaze hadn't strayed from the Balisong he was _still _flicking around in his hand.

... Good ol' Izzy.

"So, yeah! Did it. See? No big."

The dark haired boy smirked to himself and carelessly flung the folding pocket knife by one of its handles high up into the air above him, sitting up, resting his arms over his legs and directing his casually self-assured expression over at Wally. Wally however was too busy staring in alarm as the fan knife ceased its skyward motions and began tumbling back down to Earth. Or more specifically, the other boy's _head_.

"'No big' huh, yeah that's _exactly _what it looked like from up here."

Nightwing's young voice dripped with delighted sarcasm, but Wally was still watching the knife's falling trajectory. He wanted to run and pull him out of the way but-

As almost expected, the boy reached up and, without even looking at it, caught the knife by one of its handles and in the same motion flicked it back into its 'safe' formation before unconcernedly slotting it back in as a concealed compartment in his glove's gauntlets.

"But~ it looked like you sorted things out."

Nightwing was still talking, now simply leaning back on the palms of his hands and tilting his head to one side, arching his brow in Wally's direction with that impish smile plastered all over his face.

"After, what, _months_?"

"Shut up~."

Wally replied in a playfully grumpy response. He could tell the other boy was somewhat personally pleased with this development, and he himself was happy that it had made Izzy happy. Kinda. 'Happy'. Um. Satisfied. Whatever the right word was to match all those odd, off-putting delighted expressions... Either way, they ended up laughing about it, chatting in general about the Hector Hammond guy as they moved away from the general area. In Nightwing's preference and due to a tactical decision to avoid the ground roads, they leaped from rooftop to rooftop in their movements. There was a short enough distance between each one for Wally's speed to make the jump, naturally Nightwing's lines made travelling this way ideal. In this sense, the speedster finally began learning on how the other one got around so quickly... And how he 'got around', and moved, full stop.

It soon became pretty clear that Nightwing's clear preference for aerial mobility was wasted on the shorter buildings here, and Wally began to wonder how he moved through the towering cityscape that was Gotham City. His mind cast back to the vague blurry newsreels he had seen once long ago, of sweeping figures diving between skyscrapers and down into labyrinth alleyways...

As they slowed to an eventual stop near the other, northern edge of the Englewood district, their conversation about Barry's guy-friend-person became a discussion on whether Wally'd get along with him. Naturally Wally himself seemed pretty assuredly positive about the whole thing, talking a lot about the guy's work and how much he seemed to know in the field of physics, stuff like that. Throughout his own ramblings in favor of the guy, Nightwing seemed to do little more than nod and smile vaguely across at him whilst resting his slightly tilted head on his gloved hand. It was only sometime later that Wally would recall and realize the slightly more odd than usual behavior, and he'd wonder whether he should have pressed upon that... Thing is, at the end of all that, Izzy had just affirmed in summation that it seemed like a good thing for now. Wally had, quite simply, agreed.

With the press of his meeting with Barry, their time was curtailed and cut a little shorter than usual. Though even with that limit imposed, their parting seemed about as natural as ever. ... Wally had yet to decide whether that 'natural as ever' was natural at all, but he'd noted that it had been getting progressively more normal each time. Sort of. With the experienced use of the comms between time and with all that happened recently, there was definitely an emphasis put upon remaining in touch and keeping one another updated on any happenings around the place. There might have even been a vague reiterated gratitude in return for the earlier rescue and improvised resurrection, in a totally cool self-handling masculine way of course. That is, assuring that he'd pay him back for that sometime, some day. Definitely. Promise. ... Izzy had seemed especially pleased to hear that.

When it became instinctive that that 'time' was approaching, the time where Nightwing decided he'd swing off and fade away into the night atmosphere, Wally stopped him before he could even start his motions. Driven by a thought that hadn't left his mind since they had leaped those roofs and he'd made that observation about Nightwing's maneuverability amongst these low suburban tops, he pushed a pressing question that held a significantly patterned context;

"Hey, Izzy. You sure come here a lot..."

Nightwing was looking at him with that unreadable blankness that suggested he was waiting for more information first. Information that Wally quickly supplied.

"Do you think... I dunno, I've never been out of the Mid-west but... Do you think we should change it up a little sometime? Might make it more fun. A bit new..."

The corners of the younger boy's mouth tweaked upwards into a sly curl, though he said nothing. He wanted him to _say it_. Explicitly. ... He sure loved this game of making him feel awkward, didn't he. Man~.

"Just wondering if, you know... I should come up to Gotham sometime? I mean, it's really far away, but it'd be unfair if you just kept coming all the way down here..."

Plus he wanted to see Gotham City, honestly. The birthplace of some of the first 'superheroes', one of the largest and oldest cities of the East Coast, littered with famous landmarks and sites that everyone in the nation was aware of, a place where celebrities walked the streets... A city that never slept. It sounded pretty exciting, actually, especially for a country-suburban, Mid-western kid like himself... He couldn't help but just envision the largest, most expansive and alluringly intimidating playground his mind could possibly conceive. Now _that _would be an adventure. Also, potential disaster if he didn't have someone to show him around. So...~

Nightwing's smirk deepened in that so quintessentially disturbing way, and before the child swung off the building and disappeared once more, his answer was simply,

"_We'll see_".

Now where had he heard that one before...


	6. Repose

Later that night, as promised, Barry came by Aunt Iris' to see Wally. The two of them spent hours sitting outside in the garden just talking. Wally had attempted to start with apologies, but was beaten to the punch by Barry himself. It had been his fault, he had said. He hadn't made enough of an effort to connect with and support Wally after the latter had... recreated the experiment on himself. He said a part of him had wanted to avoid the trouble, to shirk the sudden responsibility and hope for a solution to become apparent on its own. That some shameful part of him had believed it to be a problem belonging to someone like Iris, or Wally's own parents.

Saddened by the way his idol seemed to be damaging his own self-esteem, Wally had been quick to point out that he hadn't exactly helped him think otherwise. Any time Barry had at least tried to make contact with him, he had simply fled from him. Anyway, he was the dumb one who had stolen the stupid notes to the experiment and had selfishly performed it on himself without thinking of any of the consequences for himself or anyone else. He hadn't even asked Barry or warned him about it at all. He... He had done as much damage, if not easily _more_. ... Barry took the time to remark on how mature Wally was acting for his age, which certainly warmed the atmosphere into something more comfortingly positive.

The decision was reached nonetheless that Wally's condition couldn't go on without proper regulation, something they could work on together. Barry pointed out the obvious fact that his powers were dangerous to himself, and others, if unchecked. Citing an example, Barry mentioned that the two policemen Wally'd accidentally hospitalized in his escape last night were no doubt evidence of what could happen if a meltdown overload occurred in a pressured environment. It happens. Wally had been taken aback by the mention of hospitalization concerning those two policemen, he stiltedly asked what his... 'powers' had done to them. 'Nothing life-threatening'; cracked ribs, some fractures, a couple of broken limbs... But he shouldn't worry about it too much, he knows Wally didn't mean to do that. Just an unfortunate byproduct of their speeds that can occur...

...

Point was, that was something they could work on. Barry apparently had similar troubles at times, especially back when he had been starting out. Successfully distracted from thinking too much about those poor police guys… and what had done that to them, Wally wondered aloud whether this meant that he'd be running with him from now on. With a smile, Barry expressed that he supposed so. Apparently, 'Kid Flash' was going to be an official thing. They'd sort out the details like running schedules and a proper costume tomorrow, but this way it would definitely be safer, and just better, for everyone involved. Wally heartily agreed, very visibly excited by the idea. Even after they had started talking about other things, the more he thought about it, the more Wally came around to accepting his new identity as 'Kid Flash'. The people of Central City had given him that name, so he'd give the people just what they wanted. He spent all this time running, he'd _made _himself into this... It was getting a bit old for him to keep trying to run away from who he actually was now wasn't it...

These idle thoughts continued to linger in Wally's mind, but he didn't neglect to keep up enthusiastic conversation with his Uncle Barry even as he contemplated all these things. As though exhibiting this, from that point on the conversation turned to much lighter subjects. The boy couldn't help but reveal that, yes, he'd been spying on Barry and Hector for a bit back there before he'd come running up. Barry seemed vaguely amused by the idea, though made sure to throw in a note about privacy, common respect and social decency. They talked about Mr Hammond for a bit, and what Barry had been up to this whole time...

When Barry in turn directed the same questions towards him, he answered freely, but conveniently left out the parts involving a certain famous Boy Soldier of Gotham City. When recounting something inevitably led to another presence being implied, he defaulted on having met some totally unimportant, very average new friend he sometimes hangs out with. What're they called? Oh, uh~, _Izzy_. Thankfully Barry didn't press much further than that, just mentioning that it's good he's found a friend to hang out with and have fun with amidst all this complication. That kind of support from people can be really important in their lives. He's not going to sugarcoat it for him, after all, it _is _hard. This life. These powers. He's still committed to discovering some sort of inhibitor chemical, any form of treatment whether temporary or permanent... But for now, the best they could do was to adapt to the lifestyle these powers have inclined them towards...

A brief, cozy silence descended between them. It wasn't long before Barry lightly apologized for putting the atmosphere down like that, and suggested with a broad smile that they take a run together through the streets. To ease off, to lighten up, and just for fun, he guessed. Almost playing to this funny role reversal due to his recent experience, it was actually Wally who frowned slightly in concern and asked whether it wasn't too dangerous with all the police out right now. They all seemed a bit more active now that he'd stirred them up like this... Again, it was Barry who winked down at him encouragingly and mentioned that it's not a problem when someone already knows their patrol routes and patterns back-to-front. Besides, just a midnight jog between an Uncle and his nephew wouldn't be hurting anyone, right? Just a few laps through this district, they won't even 'suit up'. It'll be fine.

Wally could honestly say that he had never felt more confident, more safe and more sure of himself than he did in this moment. Grinning brightly up to his hero, he nodded and got to his feet. After he got to his own, Barry issued a Ready Set Go, and they ran. Together. Breaking out into the quiet street and rushing at super speeds across the asphalt, the universe around them crumbled into a blurred insignificance and for Wally there was only Uncle Barry. Running alongside him, looking down at him every now and then, making sure he was still there and chuckling warmly every time he was met in turn with a youthfully blissful grin. They ran, and ran, and laughed, and ran until they collapsed in a jumbled heap of joviality somewhere on the side of a road leading out of town. After a tickle assault committed by Barry upon his being, after looking to the sky and talking about what made stars burn so brightly, after a while of just lying there and appreciating one another's presence again, it was time to go home. Promises of the next day and an excitement for what lay ahead allowed Wally peace of mind, and for the first time since the experiment, he soundly slept through the rest of the night...

By the following day, he had his own costume; the real thing this time. Barry had apparently been up all night working on it. The relation to the The Flash was made clear through its composition, coloring and symbol; however the top half was predominantly yellow, and the cowl was cut off at the top in such a way that his hair would flop out freely. Wally liked to think those parts took inspiration from his previous 'Kid Flash' costume with his yellow bandana and free-flying hair. He wore the get-up for the first time that day, admiring himself in a full length mirror for a whole ten minutes before he put it to its first use in a standard museum raid alongside Unc- 'The Flash'. It was so _weird _to just _say _that, but he didn't deny for a second that it was equally the coolest thing ever. Unlike his home clothes, the costume fit to his form like a glove, allowing for a heightened maneuverability and a freedom of movement he hadn't known before. Sound augmenters incorporated into the lightning bolt-shaped cowl 'ears' of theirs ensured he heard just as well as normal whilst running at super speeds, whilst a specially constructed set of red goggles gifted to him did the same for his vision.

By the following week, the media had been caught in an even bigger tizzy over it than before. Public wildfire latched permanently onto the formalized debut of 'Kid Flash', now the _official _junior partner to Central City's Scarlet Speedster. Attention and word of mouth pressed in on him for the second time; except this time, it was very different. Uncle Barry had been doing this for almost three years now, with that experience under his belt, he was far more attuned to avoiding pockets of law enforcement. Safe under his Uncle's wing, he could fully enjoy the publicity, taking an odd sort of pride in the slow nationalization of his costumed form and face. He gained experience and tried learning a few staple tricks of their powers, like running across vertical walls and using your momentum to gymnastic advantages. There was just one more thing that needed to happen before his caped merits were sealed.

By the next month, he had been at Barry's side in the thick of a multitude of encounters with Central City's 'Rogues'. The costumed heroes that spent a majority of their lives curtailing and rerouting the antics and misdeeds their speedsters were forever involved in. The entertainment experienced and fun had in these encounters were never to be forgotten, as they built their teamwork against that of their opponents. As Wally's confidence was allowed to overflow freely in hand with his newfound sense of security, his chatty persona revived in public view and Kid Flash became as equally notorious as his senior mentor at making idle chit-chat in the midst of a fight. He capitulated fully into the mindset of 'the game', throwing witty lines off a disgruntled Captain Cold whilst trading banter with Weather Wizard all amidst the flurry of superpowers and elemental technology. He began to enjoy it for what it was, and steadily lost any regrets he had ever had for doing all of this.

Summer had long since bled into Autumn, since as far back as when his last 'meltdown' had occurred in that alleyway. Bronze and fire had taken hold of the leaves upon the trees, and windy chills regularly swept through the streets of Central City. Even as Kid Flash had more and more adventures, he hadn't forgotten about certain extra-Central duties and contacts. Well, that one contact certainly hadn't even let him forget. The first outing he had experienced in his new costume alongside The Flash had ended with a buzz to that comm he still kept in a compartment within his red gauntlet.

'You're all over the news. Nice costume. - ѵ '

'it's the best, way better than yours :D - KF '

'Can it stop a bullet? - ѵ '

'dude i am /way/ faster than a speeding bullet :P - KF '

...

'Sometimes I like to sit in your room and watch you sleep. - ѵ '

_gghhkhkksdkjgsdkj-_

'omg stop - KF '

That was one thing he found unique to Nightwing. What he could always count on him for. Provoking reactions from him that skirted directly between hysterical laughter and a genuine unsettled, creeped out factor of 9001. Because honestly? There were so many times he could barely tell whether Izzy was just joking or being totally serious, the two seemed to blur into one for that kid... It was a total blind rollercoaster ride being _friends _with him. And he... kinda loved every single minute of it. With this, for instance, he was probably going to spend a good number of nights lying awake in bed and staring around his room, never knowing whether that statement had been a blank truth or teasing bluff. It instilled an embarrassing paranoia in him though, and he knew this was the point, that this _was _the game, so it worked its amusing ways on him.

Such as on one particular night when, standing at the precipice of his dreams, he thought he had felt something icy cold brush across his cheek. Upon blearily waking in the next moments, he had sat up in his bed and looked around. He'd forgotten to close the window before he'd gone to bed, he recalled. A chilling autumnal wind was thus whispering into his room, and his face felt freezing because of it. After closing it and going back to bed, he'd rolled over and snorted a grin to himself in amusement at how his mind had initially jumped to certain other conclusions first. He was so dumb sometimes...

So, it was all in good fun really, right...?

It was at this point that Wally briefly reflected on how surreal it was to just... _know __**Nightwing**_. It still felt weird. Not in a bad way. He just... found it hard at times to believe it was all real. At times before when he'd been hanging out with him, he'd wanted to reach out and pull at his cheeks, put his hands down on his shoulders and pat at his head in absolute wonder at whether he was still there, _actually _there, and this was all really a thing that was happening. They were friends. This was an absolute Wally understood. But lingering traces of the young, wide-eyed and curious introverted boy Wally had grown up as in his childhood continued to marvel at the mere _presence _of the other child. It was not unlike a fictional character stepping out from the pages of a book into reality before him. 'Nightwing' was a _myth_. The darker part of a hushed bedtime story that took place far, far away from the safety of your home. The Knight and The Boy existed only as the shadows you saw on the wall from your bed at night, projections manifested by a fear that consumed you even as you hid under the safety of your covers. And here he was, _texting _this very subject of people's nightmares and sending him _smileys_. A part of him would then think, ah, Wally West, what in the world did you get yourself into...

But then his answer was always the same.

Something _phenomenal_...

... Anyway, time passed and eventually it was November. Snow came early for them that year, as on this day halfway through the month. It came down heavily and lasted a good few days, piling up and icing over the various lakes in some of the parks nearby. Cold temperatures weren't especially kind to them speedsters, but that made it all the more important to get the much-needed activity in each day. Wally was by now becoming confident enough again to occasionally go out alone, suiting up and racing around just to burn off any leftover steam something earlier in the day hadn't thrown off for him. Sometimes he even woke up earlier to rush outside and get some exercise in before the public got moving. What with all the snow days and less people moving around at later times, a 6:30 am runaround was a totally good idea. Heck the sun only really rose at like 7 anyway here at this time of year.

It was snowing when he ran out this particular morning, slipping the red-tinted goggles over his eyes as he kicked off through the snow clotted streets on his usual morning route. Snow flurried past him on both sides, sent out in tufts and spurts behind his heels as they padded relentlessly across icy ground. Huh, it was kinda like being in the arena of an ongoing 24/7 fight with Captain Cold... He rounded the corner of another building before the familiar buzz rang off in his gauntlet. Skidding to a hazardous stop, he checked the device.

'Lake. - ѵ '

-was all it said.

Wally spent a few moments simply staring at the text and digesting the word, trying to get what it was supposed to mean because he sure as heck wasn't going to embarrass himself asking the kid what it meant. He could figure this out! ... In the end the answer came to him, and he almost kicked himself for not immediately thinking of it. It was simple. Obvious. Curiosity ignited in his chest, Kid Flash turned heel and ran in the opposite direction, towards the other side of town, towards the commercial district of New Brighton... Past a rundown cinema, into the park adjacent, at the easternmost lake, he found Nightwing standing on the west bank. He was already looking in his direction as he arrived, having expected his compliance and imminent arrival despite the lack of any offered details whatsoever. A satisfied smile adorned his lips as he found this to be proven so.

As Wally straightened and was about to ask him what this was all about, Nightwing cut across him and asked, quite simply,

"Do you trust me?"

The sudden question and its nature took him by surprise. He stuttered, and couldn't formulate an immediate coherent response in time. Nightwing cut across him again and repeated himself.

"Do you _trust _me?"

There was an emphasis now, and he wasn't giving him time to flick out a witty response or an inquiry of why. Looking down at the other boy through the snowfall and watching his face for this passing moment, a pause passed through his thoughts and his mind stalled. He thought about it, considered it with a rare bout of serious introspect. ... He wasn't expecting the answer to come to so quickly. Even after he had said it, he would wonder about it, and only come to the same conclusion every time.

"... Yeah."

It just felt... natural.

"Yeah, I do."

He steeled himself for whatever might happen as a result of this fact. He must have looked too serious or something, because Nightwing promptly burst out laughing. Rude. He made sure to pull his most impatient of pouts on him in response, and to his surprise, it was no time at all before the other boy stopped.

"Put these on."

He lifted his right hand out to Wally, whose eyes immediately focused in on what he was holding out for him. It was two long, thin blades of some sort, dangling from various straps intertwined in Nightwing's fingers. They kinda looked like ice skates, only without the boot part... Curious and testing his theory, Kid Flash allowed his gaze to flit downwards to his friend's boots. Sure enough, the other boy was already wearing a pair himself, strapped securely onto his own ninja shoe things. Apparently, he was also standing perfectly balanced on the blades despite there being iced over grassy ground beneath them.

Heh. Show off.

Looking out to the frozen lake in wonder of where this was going, he took the two ice blades and, after deciding he wasn't going to risk embarrassing himself trying to put them on while standing, he flopped down onto the cold ground and awkwardly fitted them to his own boots. He ensured that the bindings were applied just the same as Nightwing's were. After shakily standing up, he looked at the other boy expectantly. Izzy simply inclined his head to the lake in a suggestive gesture.

"Umm, aren't you going to go first?"

Wally asked pointedly, head reeling with much advice from a bunch of the adults in his life that involved specifically _not _going out onto iced over water until it was marked to be safe by authorities. Also, only with an adult. Also, not out on something like a random lake.

Izzy smiled slyly.

"I thought you trusted me."

So it was_ this _game, huh. Figured. Only, normal people do it with the catching you when you fall backwards with your eyes closed test thing, not a send out friend on a whim over iced lake because it seemed like a good idea at the time thing. Nevertheless, drawn by the sense of imminent danger immediately associated with rough skating on unmarked icy surfaces, he found himself stepping slowly, and with no balance whatsoever, towards the lake edge.

"You uh, checked that it's safe though, right?"

"Oh definitely."

Came the breezy, assuring reply from behind him. Wally took a few, unsure steps onto the ice, hearing the pricks of crackling ice underneath his footfalls. He couldn't see what the ice was doing, there was a thin layer of snow that had covered the frozen lake surface. He wobbled forward in a slow dejected slide, arms flailing out at every opportunity; he was now a good few meters from the edge.

"-not."

Wally froze in place and a very particular nonplussed look dragged on his face. He wanted to throw it back to the boy behind him but he was too fearful of losing his balance and potentially falling through the ice and into a subzero grave. A light cackle sounded out from behind him, the soft grating sound of blade on ice followed shortly and Nightwing skated right past him, arms held casually behind his back as he turned and slid backwards further out. An effusive smirk had taken on his features.

"It's more fun if you don't know...!"

Wally sighed in exasperation, continuing to make awkward steps and trying to vaguely follow the path Nightwing had taken. That had some assurance of being safe at least.

"I've heard of 'laughing in the face of danger', but y-!"

He began, having to stop after faltering on his left skate blade and flailing his arms like a windmill for a good moment before he regained some semblance of balance.

"... But I think you take the cake on this one..."

He wanted to say more, but his ineptitude at balance, motion and confidence whilst on this friggin' slippery ice was preventing him from concentrating on anything else other than trying to right himself every other second. The only time he'd skated before had been in a proper ice rink, with those barrier things you could cling onto. Where were those when he needed them most? ... An amused snort sounded out from in front of him.

"Is this you trying to ice skate?"

Wally looked up with a mock scowl in answer. The ironic echo only hit him in Nightwing's next sentence.

" '_Oh man~_, there is no way I'm letting you leave without learning' **how to ice skate**."

Revenge, was it.

Ohhh, it all fell into place now. He saw what this was. Such a scheming guy.

Before he could blink, Nightwing had skated behind him.

"Here."

And had given him a shove forward.

The next hour passed with more of this. After having successfully pushed and edged Wally out to the middle of the lake, Nightwing had mused that if he wanted to get back to the shore he was going to have to learn how to skate anyway. But it's not like he left him without a few pointers, as well as quips about how the fastest kid on the planet was the slowest kid in the world on ice. Wally had defaulted on empty threats of 'when he got his hands on him', which only seemed to encourage the Gothamite even more in his approach, in that he was quick to pick up on that and suggest that if he wants at him so badly, 'come get him'. The next minutes were a trial-and-error set composing of falls, bruises, awkward stumble skating, and flailing arms reaching out and trying to grab at Nightwing. Nightwing, who ensured that he was always _just _out of reach from the ginger boy's fingers. Nightwing, who would literally skate circles around him, sometimes backwards, and tease at how closely he missed each time.

As Kid Flash made slow and steady progress and got a little closer in every instance, Nightwing became more creative in his evasion. And not just in his taunts, as when he briefly unclasped his dark cape and teasingly held it out to one side with both hands, beckoning the bull, as it were. No, this imagination expressed itself elsewhere, too. In a swift duck and low reversing slide, an arching lean backwards and twist to the side, an abrupt circular swerve out from under Wally's fingers; all of these maneuvers required trained control, perfected balance and flawless execution. The more it went on the less Wally thought about the danger of the ice, his embarrassment, even his goal of catching the other boy. He found himself distracted by the effortless grace with which the other boy moved, there was a fluidity in his techniques that he had only seen before in those big, important sports events on TV...

It wasn't just a neat trick or few he'd learned, he could tell; this was something so integral, so _ingrained _into Nightwing's very being. That sense of balance he seemed to have was _insane_. The way he slid around on the ice, the trails of lines from his skates cutting through the snow in curvature, crisscrossing over one another and creating vivid patterns. It was like he was engraving some kind of masterpiece on the white canvas that lay between them. Wally almost felt guilty for stumbling and sliding awkwardly all over it as he followed. With every graceful turn the falling snow furled further around the boy, cloaking his elegance in a brilliant spangle of white. His arms would reach out and embrace the air as his blades weaved beauty into the ice, and the dance went on...

...

This haphazard 'lesson' ended when Wally could go a good few minutes without stumbling or scuffing his clumsy feet. He didn't manage to catch Nightwing this time, of course. He _had _gained a sort of control over his direction and balance on the ice, and so he had managed to drift at his own pace back to the bank from where they had started. Some time ago, Wally would have asked Nightwing 'why'. Wondered aloud what this had _really _been about. Even suspecting some ulterior motive. Heck, there probably WAS an ulterior motive. Probably _five_. At _least_. ... The difference was that now, those concerns didn't really matter to him anymore. He had lost the care for them. That insecure attitude where he spent too much time fretting over potentialities was no longer relevant to who he was now. To who he _wanted _to be now...

The surprise visit had ended in much satisfaction from Nightwing's perspective, that much was made obvious in the way he looked at him after they had clattered back onto the lake's bank. Boasts had been exchanged about who could break whose record in either of their self-assigned 'specialty' sports, and as Wally handed back the spare blades he mentioned that this had been a nice change up from his usual morning routine. As fun as their text conversations were, it held nothing to actually hanging out with him in person... Izzy seemed to remember something at that.

What he revealed next came from one of the many pouches on his belt, something compact and no doubt electronic; in fact, it resembled the old communicator he still had from him. This was for a reason, he was told, as it was actually an updated replacement. Something with all the capabilities of the last one, only this time they'd be able to send files, photos, videos, applications and other neat stuff over to one another. Not only that, but it had some cool new voice features so that, if they really needed to, they could call each other on a secure line over quite some distances. To top it all off, Izzy particularly noted a GPS system he'd installed into it. This was all pretty darn cool, as Wally said so himself.

An application and testing of the device's various features, along with yet another short-term farewell later, and Kid Flash was left alone in the wintery landscape of this now all too familiar park. Looking out over the once pristine lake, now scarred with the scratches of their blades, he reflected on how much had changed since the last time they had come across each other here... Resolving that he wasn't the type who reminisced and all that anymore, he was quick to shake it off with a smile, turn heel and bolt off back home.

It was only two weeks after that occasion, shortly after Thanksgiving, when he received a very peculiar, and then very _particular _message...

'Gotham gets pretty lively this time of year. - ѵ '

...

...

'Great for anyone wanting to visit. - ѵ '


	7. Tourist

The fastest (and safest) route was loaded into his updated comm from Izzy himself, installed GPS mapping it out along highways, roads and countryside fields direct from Central City MO to Gotham City NJ. There was a notable diversion in the route to pointedly avoid Delaware as much as possible in the final stretch into New Jersey, he couldn't help but ask.

'what's so bad that's in delaware XD - KF'

...

'Oh just the one thing that could catch you. - ѵ '

... Forcing himself to think hard about everything he knew about what was in Delaware, it came to him quite suddenly and brutally. _Metropolis_. He swallowed his new nervousness with a gulp and found the pace of his heart picking up. Wally put a hand to his chest and tried not to think about that 'Monster of Steel', the alien that held inconceivably augmented powers and terrorized anywhere and everywhere at random. If he ran across paths with it, then he-... Wally shook his head and clutched his hands into tight fists at his sides. It was no use getting all scared about it, he'd just have to make sure to run really, _really _fast if it did or didn't happen anyway... It's what he did best.

Besides, what was with all the negativity? This would be his first time out of the Mid-west! That was exciting stuff. He'd be traversing _states_, a whole _six _of them! This was like the epic precursor to when he'd eventually be able to go to other _countries_, around the _world _even! He already knew Barry had successfully circumvented it once, multiple times now actually. One step at a time though. This journey would be over two hours of non-stop sprinting across the country, something unprecedented in his experience. He made sure to have a huge dinner the previous night, then an even bigger breakfast the next morning. A sizable lunch then nearly finished off preparations, with some snacking into the afternoon completing it. He made sure to stash as many energy bars as he could fit into the compartments of his scarlet gauntlets.

Telling the others that he was going for a 'long run just outside of town', he promised to be back home by a reasonable time shortly after midnight. Barry pitched in some help by suggesting Wally sleep over at his tonight, so that Iris won't have to stay up for him. Barry understood. Aunt Iris wasn't _supposed _to know, he was still trying to hide his powers and... uh, 'crimes'...?, from her, so he'd been more vague as he reasoned this with her. Though, Barry had voiced shortly afterwards that he had grounded suspicions that Iris already _knew_, and _had known _for quite a while... Wally made a serious note to sit down and talk with her, too, in the following days...

With all that sorted, Wally had eagerly suited up into his Kid Flash costume, pulled the goggles down over his eyes and sped out of Aunt Iris'. First taking the eastern route out of town, he pulled up the GPS system on the run just as he broke out of the city's boundaries for the first time. The rush of countryside air hit him with immediate familiarity, bringing an especial sense of nostalgic comfort to his senses. Memorizing the routes he'd be taking as far as the border of Illinois, he minimized the holographic map and lowered his arm again as he turned back to the fore. He followed along the side of the highway leading out of Central for a while, before eventually peeling off into deserted country roads.

Seeing his surroundings clearly even amidst his speeds thanks to the developed goggles, Wally was able to mentally collapse into a euphoric awe at the rush of tinted colors and features of the lush Missouri countryside as they flitted in and then out of his vision. It was a great, open expanse before him, a limitless trail of fields and fields and space and simply the freedom to _move_. Everywhere he wanted, _anywhere _he wanted. The early evening sky was casting its rich shades of navy across the sky before him, the hands of the westward setting sun reaching gorgeous orange fingers over above him and pointing towards his ever darkening destination. The light struck his back in such a way that his shadow grew long in front of him, and ceaselessly he chased it across the plains, never catching it, but drawing a childish exhilaration from the game precisely because of that.

He breached Illinois, checked the GPS again and watched in fascination for a good ten minutes as the little marker representing him on the screen moved its way slowly across Chicago's home state. The sky continued to darken ahead of him, and he remained right on track. Indiana called for a short eating break, a very short eating break (he was far too excited to keep still for long), before he traversed across that state as well. The rich forests of southern Ohio soon greeted him, and, eager to at least gain a handful of the sights on the way, he paid mind to at least peek in and out of them whilst keeping mostly to the clearest tracks and routes marked out for him. There sure were a lot of oak trees over _here_, at least, that was for sure. Out of the forests, through some fields, down a road or two, then a main road, country road, and that was a welcoming sign for West Virginia he just passed.

The sun was beginning to slip away behind him, not that he'd thought to look back; the loss of the rays sprawling into the dark overhead just seemed to indicate it. Time had moved forward with him, and he made a conscious note that as of Ohio he had entered the Eastern time zone. An hour ahead, then, on top of the hour he had taken to get this far. Getting on into the evening then, he was making good time. From the way other people talked about Gotham City, it sounded like the sun never shone in that place. It was only right then, that he'd see the city first in its 'natural' state. When, as Nightwing had put it once, the city 'really came alive'. Enthused by another bout of wild excitement, he pushed his youthful body harder and welcomed another delightfully soothing burst of speed to course through his limbs and work them faster.

He checked his GPS more habitually as he angled upwards into a small stretch of Maryland territory, wanting to make sure he didn't make a wrong turn somewhere or somehow lose his way when he'd come this far. He was, after all, still only thirteen years old. He liked to forget that a lot. Usually on purpose. It was easy to do so when one held supernatural empowerment that no other boy in the world had, giving him access to abilities and opportunities barely anyone else had. Like cross-country travel on foot over a matter of hours. Anyway, for this reason he still had fears of getting lost, his powers and communications faltering and him being left out in one of these open fields alone... His mind couldn't help but toy with all the possibilities of something going wrong and him having to care for and look after himself. Intimidated by the thought of not being in his bed at home by the end of tonight, he swerved off-course even earlier than his planned route suggested and surged up into Pennsylvania within a matter of minutes. He was going to loop around Delaware as far from it as he could, just to be safe. He'd rather be safe.

Arching his route around Harrisburg, he quickened his pace yet again, only to feel his system draining on metabolic levels. Cursing himself for not having stopped for another snack refreshment earlier, he awkwardly downed one of his protein bars on the run in preference to stopping or even slowing down to do so properly. The following minutes were extremely stressful, as his far too imaginative mind produced multiple made up scenarios involving The Kryptonian abruptly appearing in front of him, eyes burning with a bloodied scarlet that would then rain down on him and pierce through his lungs as needles through tissue paper. Or maybe he would strike him down in mid run and instantly cripple him for life, leaving him to die in one of these fields. Or, or-.

He tried desperately to push the thoughts out of his head, though he couldn't tell whether his self-constructed panic was rising or falling with the more time that passed without incident, or the closer he got to his target. When he came down past Philadelphia and entered New Jersey, he wondered if he was allowed to breathe properly yet. He was so close. So, so close. The cloak of night had drawn itself across the sky, casting his surroundings into an eerie gloom that was interrupted only by the headlights of cars and city light clusters. The further south he delved, the more impenetrable the darkness began to feel. It was well into evening now and this was entirely unfamiliar territory, doubts were beginning to set in uselessly late, but he pushed ahead all the same. And that's when he saw it.

Crowning the horizon in front of him, a gathering of spires and skyscrapers pierced the night sky. A spattered glimmering of lights cast their artificial glare off the face of almost every building, giving their countenance a dilapidated and sickly pallor. The heights of the center architecture towered over the surrounding boroughs, black pillars of impression that struck the very soul of this country-suburban boy. An oppressively dour atmosphere clung to the aesthetic of the modern metropolis like an unwanted stink, and yet the endless hum of noise and activity and _life _called out to newcomers as they crossed over her bridges, a promise of fulfillment always drawn deep within the labyrinth of metal and stone.

'Welcome to Gotham City', a sign said.

. - . - .

The red line route on his GPS snaked its way through numerous side-streets and around endless corners, and he, obedient, followed it to the letter. His body racked with energetic pants as he skidded to an awkward halt in front of his final destination. Sure enough, as he checked the hologram-emitting device on his arm for the umpteenth time, his little lightning bolt marker was bleeping _right _in front of that correspondingly bleeping 'ѵ' sign. Though curiously enough when Wally looked up again, he saw only a... brick wall. Huh. Looking around himself a few times, he registered that he was in an alleyway, and that the brick wall was just one part of what looked like a big apartment building. As he was looking up the length of the wall, and getting slightly dizzy because heaven knew that was taller than most buildings he had ever seen, the thought occurred to him.

Duh.

Kid Flash retreated a good number of steps down the alley, before taking a running start, leaping atop and from a closed dumpster to successfully grab hold of the bottom rung of a steel escape ladder that was raised a fair amount of feet from the ground. Cursing his upper body strength as his legs kicked around helplessly in the air below him, he managed to slowly kinda pull himself up to the point where he could get a knee, and then his feet on the bottom-most rung of the ladder. After that incredibly embarrassing attempt at climbing, he ascended the rest of the stairs to the roof at his usual super speed. Once he came up to the flat roof, he took some steps forward and looked around.

"You sure like your roofs, huh...!"

Wally called out in relative greeting. Neither an answer nor any sight of him. Huh, weird... Oh. Wait. It was going to be another hide-and-seek game wasn't it. Well, he wouldn't be so easily outdone this time! How ironic, he'd left him a vital item to bring him down with this time.

"A-ha! Nice _try _Izzy, too bad you gave me _GPS._"

He promptly glued his face to the holographic screen he once again opened, zooming in enough to see where exactly that 'ѵ' marker was. Fifteen steps forward, three steps to his left around that big external vent thing, and he should be hiding right... here behind it? ... Nothing? Really? ... A small electronic blinking caught his eye to one side and he looked at the metallic side of the external vent. The locator device was there, just... stuck on the wall. Plucking it off between his thumb and forefinger, he frowned at it in a stumped wonder. And that's when a something with many digits clutched onto all sides of his skull.

"Oh no! There's a _giant __**spider **_in my hair! _AAAAAAAAAAAA_-"

A voice that wasn't his cried out in an overly dramatic fashion from above him, just as what he now registered as fingers gripped into his head harder and promptly shook it around like a masseur who should be fired from his job. After his initial definitive heart attack, Wally's face quickly instead fell into an unamused expression, especially once the gloved fingers were just silently scrunching his hair into tufts and prodding into his face in a spasmodic manner that was meant to resemble an oversized arachnid. Apparently.

"Hi Izzy."

Wally managed in a flat, deadpan voice. Much to his own pride and credit he might add. The digits promptly retracted, there was the sound of shifting upon a metallic surface, and Nightwing dropped down in front of him. Grinning to himself in some kind of triumph, as usual.

"Got you _again_."

"No you didn't!"

Wally resisted, folding his arms stubbornly across his chest. Nightwing only snickered at him, moving right past and walking until he reached the edge of the roof. At this point, he turned and watched with an odd smile as the ginger-haired visitor suddenly remembered he should really eat something if he was going to have any energy for the fun they were going to have here. As Wally munched on the last of his emergency energy-replenishing supplies, his host asked him how he'd found the run over here. The speedster couldn't help but spill out the details of how cool it was and how awesome it felt and the stuff he saw on the way and how he'd very narrowly avoided an encounter with The Kryptonian because he is just so amazingly fast like that and the fact he'd ran most of it without even checking the map...

Nightwing spent most of the rambling simply looking over to him with a comfortably amused expression, the only change in it ever being something so slight as a twitch at the corner or broadening enough to show teeth. Once the excitable young teenager had recounted his tales both fair and false, the conversation naturally led on to what Kid Flash thought of Gotham City. The visitor couldn't help but voice that it might eventually depend on if he had to meet any Dark Knights this time around, to which the local criminal-killer voiced an easy remark that actually he was going to be pretty busy tonight. Kid Flash was in luck then. With that assured, after stumbling over a few undecided adjectives at first, Wally capitulated that he'd have to see more of it first to give it fair judgment. How mature of him, Izzy had quipped with audible amusement. However, in that case...

"Follow me down."

"Which way?"

Discarding the various wrappers of his finished snacks, Kid Flash answered with this question just as he re-adjusted his goggles and began to scuff his feet against the ground impatiently. Nightwing only half-turned from him, simply gesturing out vaguely to the grand city jungle that lay ahead of them. His hand drifted freely in his gesture, suggesting that was no particular direction they would follow. A blind tour of seeing the sights then...?

"Okay."

Wally offered with strongly approving affirmation, an enthusiastic grin adorning his freckled cheeks as he crouched slightly in preparation. Lightning crackled ominously about his form, curling bolts around his limbs in a display of excess energy that was _already _building up again since his literal cross-country run.

"Lead the way."

As Wally said this, Nightwing had already taken out a line-gun and had his back to him, until he turned to look back and mention with a very deliberate smirk,

"Almost forgot."

His host promptly searched for something tucked away under the shroud of his cape before tossing it rapidly in Wally's direction. Catching the cloth-wrapped bundle awkwardly in his arms, Kid Flash peeked inside with the curiosity of a child presented with a gift at Christmas. Nightwing continued to talk even as he did.

"I don't exactly approve or anything..."

It was a pair of spray paint cans. Red and yellow colors, specifically.

"But~ I'll let it slide this time. Let's say 'first time offence', and I'm feeling lenient today."

The recipient of this gift looked up from his prize just in time to see the donor cock his head weirdly to one side and deliver an off, lopsided grin to him. Wally replied in a playfully over-exaggerated gracious tone, complete with mimed exaggerations of his apparent gratitude, including a full on mock-bow.

"Izzy, you know me _too well_ and you're just _too kind _to me."

Nightwing's expression fell abruptly.

"Was that sarcasm."

His tone was dead.

As was Wally's heart. A freezing heat swept over him and his muscles seized up in the abrupt onset of severe anxiety. The child soldier had turned to face him again and was staring without speaking, a sharp frown angling his features into a cutting expression of hateful disgust. Oh no, nononono-. Wait. Stop. _Think_. You _know _him, you _know _what he's _like_. It's a joke. It's _just _another joke. It always is. He'll break it any second now. ... Just, any time right here... ... ... Oh god he was taking steps forward where was that hand going no no no not the gun not the gun anything oh god no god god-

A snort.

"Your face."

Nightwing turned from him again and walked back to the ledge, cackling to himself as though that had been the most _hilarious _thing in the world. Once again he took out his line-gun and aimed it out towards the building opposite. Just at that moment, Wally recuperated and his automatic childish retort machine kicked into overdrive,

"_You're such a-!_"

Nightwing turned his head, smirking.

...

"_Nngghh-_ _Come here! _I'm gonna paint all over your mask so you can't even _see_!"

He leaped forward, Nightwing laughed. The shot of that line-gun fired, and they were off.

The city dissolved into an endless tunnel of dazzling lights set against a midnight veil, steel structures became but walls to his maze as he raced his guide across the roofs of the city. The momentum he held sent him careening haphazardly over the vertigo-inducing gaps between each building, he hit each surface with a shock that reverberated into his thighs and was lost without memory as his powers devoured the sensation. Lines and marks and lightning bolts of bleeding red and liquid yellow blossomed on the sides of every building, every structure that came into contact with their corresponding blur. His speed drove him but his eyes directed him, for in all his freedom he was bound to the scant sights of deep crimson and flitting shadows for guidance. Flashes of instances in which he would catch him in his vision, nearly always peripheral, a flickering ghost of a presence somewhere up ahead. There would be prolonged moments in which there was nothing, until a flutter of black and dull gold somewhere in front of him cried reassurance for his adventuring soul. The descent into the depths of this city continued.

Over one block and the buildings aged centuries beyond his life, gothic structures mingling with baroque in a misguided intimacy. Another block and the city decomposed, forgotten steel mills wheezing their last gasps as the warehouses sat quietly in the bones of their own rust. Through a silent shipyard where towering masts hoisted skeletons of wood and fiber, and into the desolate wastelands of forgotten trinkets left in pyramids dedicated only to those who discarded them there. Surroundings shift again and planted life springs alongside avenues, the sidewalks are now smooth and paved with false glitter. Roads collapse into open squares of order containing constructed beauty, rows of empty benches sit upon spotless grounds. The towers of metal return and are cloaked in pristine glass, the names of those who rule the city etched into their heights with blinding lights. The grandeur fades as they move through a housing block, and uniformity reigns in a regiment of multi-storey buildings.

Their pace slowed naturally, without words exchanged or so much as a signal given. The paint in Kid Flash's spray cans were whittling down to a minimum, and there were now points where Nightwing paused in motion just to turn and glance to see if the chase was still ensuing. They eventually came to the roof of an apartment block not unlike the one they started out on. Catching their breath on top of there, it was agreed that Wally now had the 'general idea' of Nightwing's hometown. That was saying the least of it, in Wally's opinion. In any case, he was more interested in the little amount of potential graffiti he had sitting in his can of yellow paint. Izzy mentioned that, 'logically', it should go out in a big stunt kinda way. 'KF' definitely agreed, and it only took a moment until an idea struck him. He'd never done this before, well he'd tried but not with any absolute degree of success, but heck if the end product wouldn't look _so __**cool**_. He was going to need Izzy's help though...

Some moments of careful calculation later, and Wally was standing at one far end of the roof. Izzy was at the other end, diagonal across from him in direction. The timing had to be absolutely perfect on this, but he'd come to expect no less from the disciplined boy he was with. With only the sign of an exchanged nod, the speedster kicked off from his position and sped at an incredible speed in the direction of the other boy. He gained more and more velocity as he went, bolting just past him at the last moment, Wally registered that he was now at the very corner of the roof, facing out from the building... and he had only sped up. He realized that he had turned to face inward instead at the final instant, and that he was angling his body forward and further forward and down and down until his world turned and the ground far below was now his destination. His heart leaped up into his throat as his first foot successfully struck upon relenting brick wall.

Quelling the distraction of initial thrill he stuck rigidly to the plan, he put the other foot in front of that one and then the other and again and again. His hand dragged low to the ground the moment he had begun his sprint along the side wall of the apartment building, finger pressed firmly to the nozzle of the can as he left a yellow trail in his wake. He ran down the side of the building in a diagonal line from the roof corner from which he had started his descent towards the opposing corner belonging to the ground. Calculations of speeds and angles and timing whirred through his head at lightspeed as he approached the predicted marker at his set angle for halfway down the building. The point where he would run straight into the emergency escape stairs. At the exact moment as planned, he lunged forward and reached his free hand out to one of the rungs of the exposed ladders. He successfully grabbed it, but didn't even have the time to appreciate the success before he forcefully swung his body with momentum in such a way that it brought him around in a full loop. With immense concentration and effort he angled his body in such a way that his feet once again hit upon brick, he was now facing the complete opposite direction to before.

Though his pace faltered in that brief moment as he gained footing, he was quick to rectify it and rushed back up across the face of the building at a more acute angle than his previous route. The trail of paint was never allowed to cease in his wake. Then there it was, the far window that marked the point where he would need to make the second and last, very particular abrupt turn. There was nothing however to grab on to and swing from to maintain his speed at such a sharp angle, which is where-. Right on time. A ripple of something dark rushed past him in his peripheral vision, and, hanging from somewhere above by a line he held in one hand, Nightwing peaked the arc of his swing just at the window just as Kid Flash leaped forward from the wall, arm outstretched. Time seemed to slow even for him in that moment, as _of course _Nightwing simply grinned impishly and did absolutely nothing.

Everything froze in abject horror, untilthe cheeky jerkface stuck out his free arm and playfully stuck out his tongue. The bright ruby red of his gloved hand grasped onto the offered forearm just as the unexpectedly strong grasp of that black gauntlet dug into his own. His momentum carried the arc of the swing further, though Nightwing stuck doggedly to the plan and instantly rolled his arm around just as Kid Flash rounded himself with the few steps he could get on the brick wall. The result was that Wally was now once more facing the same direction at the same angle as his initial line of descent. This all happening within the blink of an eye, Wally ensured to step off again immediately in order to maintain the necessary speeds for racing across a vertical wall. It was sorta easy from there, he simply ran as fast as he could towards that bottom corner of the building whilst dragging along that canister of yellow paint behind him. Except he'd forgotten to plan the end.

As the ground rushed to meet him, he improvised very awkwardly, and while he managed to half-jump off the wall in such a way that one set of toes landed on solid ground, his other leg simply crumpled behind this one and he just sorta fell over and faceplanted kinda hard on the ground. Nothing major, just a lot of pain in his most attractive face. Whatever. It was _totally _worth it. Pulling his head out of alleyway puddle water, he lifted his goggles up from his eyes and set them on his forehead, turning back to look up at the side of the apartment building he had just run down.

_Oh yeah. _

A **giant **_lightning bolt. _

Wally pulled an overly satisfied expression and nodded to himself in a supremely cool, slow fashion. That'd sure take a while to wipe off completely, and he knew he shouldn't take pride in thinking that, but oh man he kinda really did. Hah. Oh if only he could be around to see the looks on peoples' _faces_. As he fumbled with his limbs and slowly got to his feet, he threw both fists into the air triumphantly and let out a victorious _'WOO!_' just as Nightwing landed a bit away from him. The energetic ginger immediately directed his overly enthused grin in the direction to the darker clad youth, gripping his hands to either side with giddy excitement as he raved,

"Did you _see _that? I ran _down _the _wall_. _Down_. _The wall_. You don't even know how long-. I did turns_! Turns! _At _that _speed! _Down _a _wall_! _Without _falling! Even once! Oh man, oh man wait until I tell Un-. The Flash. Wait 'til I tell The Flash! Oh that was so cool. So cool. Oh my god that was so cool. Look at that, it's so cool. It's huge. It's like the biggest one ever. How am I even going to top that forever. It's the best ever. Do you have a camera in that belt of yours? We need a picture. You should take a picture. So, _so _cool."

It wasn't like Nightwing was even attempting to stop his rambling, in fact quite the opposite as evidenced by how he settled back against a closed dumpster, folding his arms and simply watching the endless spiel with an eternally expressed mild amusement. After Wally had exhausted the English language for positive adjectives concerning his masterpiece, the ginger teenager finally sighed in satisfaction and leaned back against the wall behind him. Affirming between themselves that that was probably enough activity for now, it was decided that they should find a suitably awesome hang out spot from which they could see the whole city. Izzy boasted that he knew the perfect place.

They backtracked into the district that had the tallest buildings, the one with the sheets of pristine glass and most dazzling lights. The huge company ones. Nightwing pointed out one of them with a big big 'W' on it, it was definitely the tallest one around. Asking whether he was sure nobody would come up there or see them, Wally was assured that Nightwing 'knew' no such thing would occur. Well, who was he to doubt? Being the kind of kid Izzy was, he knew he'd want to avoid attention as much as he himself did right now. After they approached one side of the skyscraper, Wally realized they'd have to get _up _it first. And then he realized from unfortunate experience how exactly this was going to happen. This time, he had time to protest before getting hauled up hundreds of feet at a time.

After these nauseating multiple trips up, he was repaid in full when the view from this tower proved nothing short of spectacular. The whole city was laid out in front of them like a rolled out map. From here he could spot and recognize some of the various areas and districts Nightwing had taken him through earlier, there were just so _many _though... Only from this height and vantage could he now truly appreciate just how _huge _this city really was. The rows and rows of buildings were never-ending, and he could only very barely make out the bridges in the distance that marked the outer boundaries of this city under this cover of darkness. He couldn't help but wonder what this place looked like in the daytime. Admittedly, even his imagination couldn't quite picture it without thinking it too weird... Point was, this place was a veritable jungle of a metropolis. And he once thought Central City was big...

As though reading his mind, once they had sat down, Nightwing asked him again what he thought of Gotham City. Wally was quick to admit that the height of the buildings and the narrow nature of some of the side-streets made him feel a bit uncomfortable and claustrophobic, more like a lab-rat scurrying around a maze with no way out. For that he preferred the open roads and plains of the Mid-west. Though he would say that the... the _aura _this place had was _immense_. Enthralling. He didn't quite know what to make from it, but he got the feeling that there was so much to explore here. And that it was the kind of place where even when you might have thought you'd explored it all, you'd probably find another nook or cranny hiding a whole other bunch of stuff. Izzy seemed fairly impressed with the answer, or pleased at least, and affirmed that it sure was by far and away the best city for hiding places. He'd know.

In an entirely conversational manner without even realizing it, Wally asked whether he was talking about when trying to avoid the city's 'heroes'. What did they call themselves here again? 'Gotham Underground', Nightwing reminded him simply, before correcting him with a smirk that they didn't _avoid _the city's 'heroes', but they sure did like to follow them.

"You mean like what you did when you came to Central City, and met me? No seriously, is that really just how you guys say 'hello' to people?"

Wally had gibed out, only for his friend to laugh and shrug ambiguously. Conversation then turned in general to what the Gotham City 'capes' were like, in comparison to Central's. The elder boy had waved off talking about his hometown's guys in advance, guessing with exasperation that his present company was probably already just as much informed on them as he himself was. Though he usually loved to, and preferred to, talk about his stuff, this time he was pointedly more interested in anything Nightwing had to say about the Gotham Underground. Those guys were _legendary_. In the sense that they had been around for longer than most others. Had they been some of the first ones? It was something like that. The national news back home liked to mention any significant exploits that went down here, and due to their lengthy time 'on the job' as it were, they were among the more famous names that went around in the business.

'The Joker', 'Deuce', and 'Scarecrow' were the ones he first heard about and was most familiar with as far as names went. The first two _especially_. Hadn't they been part of that group of heroes who'd defended the Earth against that awesome big space creature thing a year ago? No wonder he knew them so well in that case, the news had been all over that event for weeks and weeks upon end afterwards. ... Then there was the lady who seemed tied to The Joker in some way, clown theme and all. Uhh, Jesteress? Or something? It was a circus-y pun thing. And there was an even more recent one apparently, who was super smart and only some years older than himself. ... Oh man, what was his name again...

Kid Flash made sure to run this all by his human Gotham handbook incarnate. He was affirmed and corrected on various things. It was Harlequin, apparently. And the newer guy was going by 'Enigma'. That sounded pretty cool, Wally thought aloud. Nightwing only shrugged, offering a brief whimsical smirk, before it faltered and was replaced with a distracted frown.

"It's just more people getting in the way, really..."

There was a silence that drifted on from that statement, until Wally tentatively pushed the subject further, leaning back against the palms of his hands in an attempt to appear comfortably casual even whilst saying something like this.

"... Wow, it's pretty serious for you guys, huh..."

Izzy shook his head lightly,

"I don't think it's so serious. It's _important_, but as long as we get the bad guys in the end, I make sure I enjoy every bit of it on the way. Makes it fun."

He ended with a musingly cheerful tone. With all the talk of the heroes and the resurfacing subject of this self-assigned criminal-erasing 'mission' Nightwing and The Dark Knight seemed set on, Wally was reminded of that revealing conversation they had shared on the lakeside bank in Central City months ago. The one that had got him in quite an unsure state about what exactly was supposed to constitute and separate 'good' and 'bad' properly. In the end he hadn't come to a conclusion on that. ... He still hadn't. Hadn't even thought about it again until now... Maybe he'd just... leave it at that for now. It had become too personal and blurry for him to even tell anymore, and there was always that part of him that kinda didn't really _care_... Only, here and now, something occurred to him in this new context and setting that he hadn't quite thought of before. But now that he had, it was really bugging him...

"So..."

He started as though obviously beginning a question, pulling a thoughtful expression as he stared up at the sky above them, simply finding a way to phrase what he was going to say properly. He could just _feel _Nightwing looking at him without even checking. The fact his hairs were bristling and he was getting goosebumps again were confirmation enough...

"I don't get it."

Wally stated, gaining enough courage through his genuine curiosity and confusion in order to look Nightwing in the eye and just ask these things.

"_You're_ after the bad guys. The criminals. _They_, 'Gotham Underground', are after the criminals. But we've all heard that you guys fight each other all the time. Why don't you just put some stuff aside and work together?"

...

Nightwing burst out laughing.

At him.

Again.

...

Rude.

Eventually the humor subsided again, and Wally's distinctly unamused face must have gotten through to him or something, because he at least _tried _to not sound patronizing in his tone.

"I don't think you _get _it. They don't really... _approve _of how _we _do things. At all."

"You mean the uh... killing... thing?"

"And other things."

Nightwing added casually. This piqued curiosity in Wally, but he knew a time and a place for pressing and digging for information. For now, he had to think of argument. He wanted to say, why don't you try and stop killing then? Or, isn't there any way you can avoid doing all that stuff? ... But this seemed... bigger, than just saying that. Even he could see that. He was intimidated by the entire thing, honestly, but... The scientist within him only wanted to test further, to continue experimenting no matter how far and to what depths his research took him. He just... needed to _know_... And for that, he would have to be patient. And careful...

"Can't you uh... just sit down and maybe try and talk to them for a bit...?"

This suggestion earned him another mocking snort, and then a genuinely entertained chuckle.

"No... No. They don't listen to us..."

Izzy's tone was going really... _weird_. He still sounded amused, he was still smiling, but there was something so... _dead _about it. A morbid lack of faith that sagged on his countenance and dragged like a weight on his words. His voice remained light and cheerily casual, he even issued a half-formed snort at the end of his words... But... It sounded kinda... far away. 'Out of it'. As though he were only partially involved in the conversation, or in the middle of daydreaming...

Wally waited on edge for the continuation...

...

"They just take us away and lock us up in that place."

Those particular words struck an empathic chord in Wally's heart, and he awkwardly turned away again, looking out instead to the endless distance of city displayed in front of them. He found it easier to breathe, just being able to see all that space. That sense of freedom... He said nothing, and usually this would end the conversation. A silence would ensue, and then another topic would strike up... But to his surprise, Nightwing kept talking. He was still speaking in that disconnected, absent way that meant that Wally wasn't even entirely sure whether he was still talking to him, or just talking to himself... Thus he did nothing but listen.

"They don't get it."

...

"They think we're _crazy_."

Another half-formed snort.

...

...

...

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

... Wally looked at him.

Nightwing's expression was completely blank. He wasn't letting _anything _on; not his thoughts, not his expectations, not his desires, and _especially _not any prospective reactions... Not that he ever did. But this. This was a new level of exactly that. This silence was dragging on too long, there were too many things to say, too many to _think_. ... All he could manage in the end was a rather amusing observation that had really actually leaped to the foremost of his mind almost immediately.

"... I dunno dude, if _you're _crazy then I must be _nuts _for hanging out with you all the time."

He rubbed his chin with a thoughtful forefinger, his expression was genuinely humored by this logically hilarious line of thinking he had come to. Apparently the jokingly serious, or seriously joking, nature of that statement had been received well, too. That was definitely a 'snirk' that had just cracked on the younger boy's face right there. Mission: Success! As a result, his muscles ceased tensing up so badly, enough so that he could at least flop over backwards to try and relax a little again. He tucked his arms underneath his head and stared up at the overcast night sky above them in thought. ... Huh... ...

"But... Seriously? ... _Nah_... You're not _crazy_."

...

"Just... _weird_. Really _**weird**_."

Wally frowned slightly to himself in a decided manner, as though he had only just arrived at this acknowledgment. A light laugh from somewhere over to his right where Nightwing presumably still was seemed to suggest that this was also an acceptable comment. He was glad, then. ... But that really had been the honest truth, anyway. At least, the two big parts of it that were most prominent in his mind right now... Sighing deeply to himself in significant trepidation, he closed his eyes and turned over so that his back was to his friend.

"But that... That doesn't mean I'll ever be cool with the whole killing thing, you know."

...

...

This had gotten way too serious. It wasn't comfortable...

...

"Also the uh... the _guns_."

A barely retained snicker. Then not even retained at all.

He'd _thought _that'd get him, once he'd linked it back to _that _incident.

"Go on, laugh."

Laugh at my severe trauma from before, oh, yeah, there you go. You're in hysterics now. Okay, great, brilliant, laughing at the stuff that haunts my nightmares, finding my now probably lifelong anxiety issues amazingly hilarious, as usual. Always a charmer aren't you.

Weirdo.

... He thought this, but he felt himself smiling as he did...

. - . - .

They managed to get back on track with more casual, light-hearted conversation with no hard or awkward feelings. Amazingly. There was definitely a lot of... _stuff _they had unearthed and prodded at in that one conversation, and Wally was pretty sure they both knew that, but they were just too _young _to want to ever dwell on that stuff for longer than these occasional momentous instances. It was messy. It was dumb. It was _boring_, almost above anything else. Who wanted to talk about all that stuff when you could talk about comic books, video games and cartoons. It was the idle chit-chat like that that Wally always loved the most, and he liked to think that Izzy liked it best too. There were lots of thing they would find they had in common, then other things they disagreed on and argued about, until eventually they'd come to some compromise that made no sense because it was thought up by two middle-school boys. It made everything so... so _simple_...

A couple of hours passed in which much of the same sort of idle talk rolled on and on with a warm ambiance, until inevitably Wally's limbs began to whirr and crackle with agitation as excess kinetic energy began breaching his maximum limitations. After the long distance run from earlier, his body was still attuned to that energy demand and still expecting a similar level of output from him. As a result, even the adrenaline he got just by being _around _this boy and his wardrobe of knives and guns wasn't enough to stave it off for long. It wouldn't subside to usual levels until tomorrow, most likely... Anyway, it was agreed that he oughta 'stretch his legs' for a bit. Just until his muscle cramps subsided. Yet another unpleasant swing ride down from the industrial tower later (Wally could tell this service wasn't usually provided for people Nightwing _liked_), and they were back among the middling rooftops of the surrounding buildings.

There were definitely some areas they hadn't checked out in the first loop of the city, so Izzy offered that they take a spin through the entertainment district, for one. There'd definitely be more people there at this time of night, but maybe that would be what might make it _especially _fun. All about the more daredevil exploits, Kid Flash had pulled his goggles back down over his eyes and given the other boy a goofy grin, also a thumbs up, because there were never enough of those a day. Nightwing seemed about to crack some kind of joke about it, but he stopped abruptly and his face fell almost at once into a bizarrely grave expression. ...

?

"Sorry."

Was all he said, admittedly without too much feeling behind it, before he turned from him and put a finger to his own ear, frowning slightly at the ground. Wally was about to ask what was going on before,

"Here."

Nightwing answered to someone Wally couldn't see. It took him a moment to twig that there was probably some communication device-piece thing in the other boy's ear, and by then the small vigilante was nodding to himself as he followed someone's diction... He now looked vaguely puzzled.

"Huh? But you said-" ...

...

Yet another realization slowly reached Wally as Nightwing grew silent again. There was... only one person he could be talking to over something like that, wasn't there... His bones suddenly chilled under a violent arctic winter, and he would have traded anything in this moment for his super speed to be super _hearing _instead right now. What if they were... What if it was something to do with _**him**_. This hesitant curiosity and quiet dread only clashed against his inner polite self, meaning that he had craned forward only to pull back and act like he wasn't listening. ... When he really, really was. Especially as Izzy's face fell once more into a grim countenance. ... It... didn't suit him very well, Wally thought.

"Okay. Right away, Sir."

Nightwing lifted his finger away from his ear, using that hand to instead pluck his primary sidearm out from its holster as he inspected its magazine and ensured it was properly loaded. Wally's vivid imagination quickly began spiraling out of his control again as all he could predict was an execution with an 'Oh sorry my Boss doesn't actually approve so I'm afraid I'm going to have to shoot you now because it is the only way'. Even then it might be a joke, it might not be, but then actually be, and he wouldn't run in time because he wouldn't ever know for _sure_ until the gun actually fired, and then at this distance the bullet slams into his forehead... If it was going to be even _anything _like that, Wally resolved, any _part _of that, he was going find out before that gun's barrel even turned on him for the second time in his life.

"Was that... Was that about _me_..."

He almost stated, rather than asked. His body had steeled itself, his ligaments so tense he thought they could snap at any given moment; his expression had likewise become set to more rigid fixture of wary preparation. He had come to expect everything, from being able to predict nothing. A dark smile crept slowly onto Nightwing's face as he looked over his weapon with too much care and too great attention. His voice dripped with a quiet, _predatory _glee...

"If I told you it was... Would you make me laugh...?"

Wally's inherent nature once again got the better of him, and he retorted before he had even thought _any _part of that through,

"Well _duh_, most _likely_, as I'm apparently the _Fountain of Endless Amusement_ to you..."

In the past, he would have regretted that. In the past, he would have mentally clapped a hand over his mouth. Maybe even physically. But, not now. Not this far in. For all this time spent together, Wally felt like he'd _earned _the right to talk back to him like this, without any self-reproach or condemnation. Okay, so he could feel himself shaking and that definitely wasn't from any kind of anger, but just being scared didn't mean that he would take what he had said back. ...

...

He had expected a _lot _more reaction to that than he eventually got.

"You really are, aren't you..."

Nightwing mused oddly, more to himself than anything, as he looked skyward for a brief moment. In thought? ... That is, before he glanced back over to the older boy and his lips cracked into a smile of hungry teeth.

A lot of things occurred to Wally West in that singular moment. The reason for their second meeting. The reason for their prolonged contact. The reason for him even _being _here. ... It... It wasn't all of it, though. He didn't believe that for a second, _wouldn't _be convinced of that. ... But he'd be damned if it weren't a **big **part of it. A whole bunch of stuff made a heck of a lotta sense now. He should be insulted by it. He knew this. He should be offended. Angry and bitter in finally facing the horrible truth that a fundamental thread of this friendship was how freely he danced from his strings for his puppeteer. ... But, honestly? He... wasn't.

The wheels of cold logic had turned in his mind, and the scientist examined the child and his toy. This scientist noted how the child would always return without fail to play with the toy, wrote of how when the toy was lost the child would go find it and put it back where it belonged, recorded how when the toy was broken the child would bring his sewing kit and mend it himself. Then one day, after once again visiting the playroom where the toy lived, the child simply took it home with him. After carelessly discarding so many toys before, what made this one so special to the child? Why, he had the most fun playing with it, of course. Entertainment had fostered a coveting, and from coveting sprang fascination, fascination then led to... ... The equation was unfinished, but the hypothesis remained itself a query. For who held control over the other? The child, or the toy?

...

The entire experiment was a game. This whole game that they had refused to quit since a very long time ago _was _the experiment. Wally couldn't be sure if Nightwing had already figured out the conundrum, if he'd already recognized the multiple layers to this practical test that lay far beyond a curtain of boyish activities. This curtain he had only just realized was there, the layers he had only just thought to sneak a peek at, having previously been content to wander blindly as the violent winds would take him. ... As he would continue to do so. Wasn't it just so much more _fun _that way? There were endless possibilities. Just how many layers _were _there, _actually_? Did Nightwing _want _him to think all of this? Was he being strung along even now? How much of it was truth, and how much just an act of crossroads and turned signs to lead him in circles forever? He just didn't _know_. ... Not yet, at least. And so his experiment would have to continue, now wouldn't it. The best scientists didn't give up even in the face of the most impossible problems...

However.

He placed his hands on his hips.

Most importantly.

He allowed a bright, cheekily triumphant grin to grace his features.

When it came down to it.

"You _bet _I am. I'm the most _hilarious _kid on the planet, and you _know it_."

... They were friends. All of this over-analyzing stuff was really interesting to ponder on in a spare moment, sure kept his incessantly working mind occupied... But at the same time, that first, single fact was all Wally really cared about in the end. That there in front of him was someone who knew who he was inside and out. Someone who'd helped him through some bad times and out of tight spots. Someone around his age to talk to about sports and video games and movies. Someone who'd listened when he needed them to, and for whom he'd listened in turn. Someone who'd told him more cool things about dinosaurs, taken him to a ball game and taught him how to ice skate. Someone who laughed at him, and wasn't mad when he laughed right back at them. They had nicknames for each other, they had 'walkie-talkies', they had secret meet-ups after bedtimes, they caused trouble, they adventured, they explored, they played, they talked.

Just what part of all that was in any way fake? Or simply the cold machinations of a boy who looked like he'd barely made it into double digits? When he had said he didn't think his friend was crazy, he had _meant _it.

Izzy promptly burst out laughing at him and his ridiculous pose and ridiculous statement with its ridiculous gravitas. And KF, finding his class clown merits once again earned with distinguished flying colors, laughed right back.

This game had been revealed in full, but it would change _nothing_.

...

... Sometimes he really did suspect that Izzy could read minds. Maybe this was just his paranoia and over-analytical mind talking again, but he swore that Nightwing's smirks suddenly became a more _pronounced _after his own sudden displayed change of heart in regards to being thought of as a 'Fountain of Endless Amusement'. It was like he was suspecting something, or had already begun his own threads of speculation and advance planning, weaving his strings out along their spindles with every word that fell from that vulturine mouth.

"Can't play more right now. Duty calls, KF. Or more accurately, Sir does."

Nightwing was already perched on the ledge of the roof, he had put away the _actual _gun and was reaching for his line-gun.

"Oh, so it _wasn't _anything to do with _me_?"

Kid Flash teased, sounding mock hurt and betrayed at the very notion. Izzy turned and directed a wry, eerie smile back at him.

"My whole world doesn't revolve around _you_, _amazingly_."

His tone was lathered with droll, and Wally imagined that he rolled his eyes as he said that. Heh, well so much for _his _theories, he thought in a lightly amused and self-deprecating humor. Nightwing turned back to the edge of the building's roof however, even as he continued talking in his more usual, flippant intonation.

"Just some business. Shouldn't be long. You can take a few laps around this area to burn off that energy if you want, but I'll meet you back here."

The young boy lifted his arm and fired the line-gun up towards the heights of an opposing building, a satisfying 'thunk' informed that it had struck its mark successfully. Just as Nightwing straightened, Wally couldn't help but blurt out another obnoxious question that had been bugging him for these last few minutes,

"Why do you call him 'sir'?"

... Isn't that a bit... ...

"Because."

Izzy answered bluntly, turning his head around to face Wally once more.

He was smiling. Brightly.

"He's a knight."

With that answer and a trailing last echo of delighted laughter, the Boy Soldier leaped from his perch and swung gracefully into the night. It was only a matter of seconds before Kid Flash lost sight of him entirely. ... ... Huh. Go figure, Wally thought with a quirky, fond smile as he approached the ledge of the roof and looked out to where Nightwing had faded into the cityscape. He wondered how many other people also mistook it for some military, 'sir yes sir' thing. Knowing one of his friend's colloquial titles, probably the vast majority. The realization that he had once again thrown himself into learning something probably barely anyone else did made him laugh outloud with a childish self-satisfaction. Knowing things nobody else did? About _this _famous kid? Now _that _was an awesome feeling, every single time. The more you knew...


	8. Madness

Kid Flash found Nightwing's pointer of regular exercise to be prudent, as ever, coaxing the bolts of energy that nibbled at his tendons to simmer down and eventually recede through burning it off in endless laps of that block of apartment buildings. It was a good heap of minutes in doing that before those efforts even took effect, what with the lack of any particular sense of adrenaline or 'rush'. Though the temptation to go forth and seek some satisfying challenges and dangerous thrills- (things he knew merely from common knowledge were bountiful in Gotham City)- was naturally strong within him, he overrode his base instincts with rational logic. A logic that almost sat there purely to remind him that this was neither the time nor the place for unnecessary adventures, _especially _without his guide. Even with his speed and confidence, there was this nagging feeling that he might still get trapped and lost forever amidst the snaking alleys of this place. It was still his first time in a city this big, so erring to the safe side for now seemed something that Uncle Barry would advise and approve of. Maybe next time, then...

After his energy levels had calmed to a more bearable level, he dashed all the way back up to the roof they had been on and settled down near a ledge, where he promptly sat down cross-legged and leant back languidly against his hands. ... Bored. Was the first thought that hit him in the ensuing silence. He brought his wrist to his face and clicked open the primary compartment, eying the comm Nightwing had given to him and debating whether to try bothering the younger boy yet. No, no, dumb idea. He'd probably interrupt something important and then The Dark Knight would want to maim him, etc etc. Plus it had only been what, twenty minutes? He could deal. No big. He'd just... count how many lights were lit on that building over there. Yeah, that sounded fun. Fun enough, anyway. ...

...

Sixty-eight.

Okay. Now how about how many buildings you can see from here? ...

...

...

He got bored after breaking into the hundreds.

What about...

These mundane games continued on for a while, and soon Wally even found himself struggling for new ideas. He hadn't checked the time in quite a long time, come to think. With a flick of his wrist he looked to his multi-purpose technological device thing. His brow furrowed. It had now been well over an hour... Even when taking into consideration that nobody else could move or deal with things as fast as he could, that still seemed a longer time than well, a 'shouldn't be long' kinda time. The amount of time people are expected to wait for you, not that he expected Nightwing to be entirely up to date on the rules of common social principles. But, speaking of Izzy, there were also still no messages from him whatsoever. The utter silence was unnerving, especially in how it was now _unusual _for this stage in their friendship. Once again he toyed with the thought of maybe messaging him, just messaging him, and asking where he was, what was up, how long he was planning to take...

His forefinger hovered over the surface of the device, wavering tentatively.

The comm beeped.

Wally jumped and retracted his finger in alarm. He hadn't touched it.

Which meant...

A crackling sound fizzed from the device, as if a signal was attempting to tap into its radio frequency. The odd syllable could be heard within the static, and Wally put it to his ear and tried to focus on the noises. Shaking it multiple times and calling 'Hello?' over and over, it eventually cleared and the tiny speakers on the comm filled with coherent sounds. The first one he heard was heavy, strained and breathless panting, and the rhythmic light thunk of shoes upon concrete. Jumping to his conclusions, the speedster rapidly began to gush his thoughts.

"Izzy? Is that you? Hello? Where've you been dude? What's going on?"

It was only a pause before a shaky, stilted laugh sounded out on the other end over the surrounding din. Concerned by the variation he had never heard before, Wally again lifted the comm closer,

"Hey, are you okay? Izzy?"

...

'_Heh. Heheh. Peachy. Just- Just wanted to let you know that I might not... be able to get back to you tonight._'

The voice was weaker than he was used to, and twisted oddly with undertones of pain and fatigue.

...

"Oh."

Wally managed at first, lamely.

'_Because I'll be dead soon._'

...

...

'_Heh. Eheh. Your face._'

Not. Cool. Izzy.

"Not. Cool. Izzy!"

Wally spoke his mind, his tone severe enough as to hopefully provoke the absolute truth from him.

'_H-Huh, though, seriously? A-... A side full of shrapnel sure makes it weird to run..._'

...

_'Aheh_. _Y-your face. __**Again**__._'

"_Stop it!_ What's _actually _going on? Where are you?"

All Wally received was more faltering and unstable laughter, before the sound sorta fell away and was replaced by the crack of gunfire and the roar of faraway voices. The noises continued to resound from his device even as he physically retracted from it in horror, any further attempt to get Nightwing's attention was promptly lost amidst the bullets and shouts that shrieked from the other end. His mind was racing, his heart was pounding. He could feel the sweat beading around his temples, heard his breath catch itself in his throat, and simply could not tear his eyes away from the communicator. What should he do. What should he do. What should he _do_. Oh god oh god _oh god oh god oh god... _

Lightning snapped hungrily around his legs, and it was only then that he noticed they were shuddering with a _disturbingly high _frequency. Raw power was coursing through his fasciae and thundering into his muscles, the crackling vibrations were almost infectious to the rest of his body as his arms joined in the beat and rhythm of urgency.

...

Wasn't it obvious...?

Wally pulled the goggles down over his eyes. Kid Flash jumped to his feet. He ran.

_Into _the city. _Into _the alleys. He was racing at an _unprecedented _velocity throughout and about each and every corner of this urban landscape, blank faces and dull sounds and grey walls passing him by as he focused his senses entirely on matching the noises that continued to cry violently from his comm with any sounds that surrounded his intimate world of winds. The lightning-like energy surged around him and enveloped him in its large, greedy claws. Bang, bang, shout, bang. He was looking for that, only that. Every other sound was now irrelevant, unimportant, until he could match those exact patterns. He fled past a car chase. He didn't stop a bank robbery. He rushed through a gang fight. He didn't even see the mugging. Nothing else mattered right now, he had to keep going, keep running, he had a goal, he needed to reach it, had to get to it, had to had to had to. It was urgent. _Delightfully _so, his body soothed in pleasure, as his pace pushed at old limits and his pains fell away into a beautiful abyss of perpetual motion.

There.

There it was.

In the distance, the same sounds still emanating from his wrist now an echo of what lay somewhere ahead of him. He was back onto the roofs now, figuring that would be the most likely level upon which he would come across the action. It was getting closer now. Closer. Closer and closer closer closer so close now. Right up ahead. _There there there. _But. There was nothing. Maybe down? Definitely down. He looked down.

His heart surged into his throat, and he nearly choked on it.

Down in the alleyway beneath him, backed up against the end wall, was Nightwing. From here he could see that his legs were shaking from strain, his right arm was extended level out in front of him, right hand clutching steady onto a handgun. His face was mingled with sweat and blood, yet full of fervent determination, laced with a wild aggression. Some of his left side, from shoulder into upper arm, stomach into upper thigh, was peppered with bits of dark stuff. It took a moment for Kid Flash to actually register that shrapnel was protruding from his friend's body.

It was his voice that broke Wally's state of uncomprehending shock.

"_Come on_. One step. ..._One step _closer. I _double _dare you."

He wasn't talking to him. He was talking to someone else. Someone else in that alleyway. Wally managed to avert his eyes from the way the blood was sliding quietly down Izzy's left arm and leaving crimson rivers traced along his skin. Who. Who who _who _was responsible. There. There. It was two of them. They were dressed funny though, not like the typical mobsters Wally had always imagined in his head and seen in his movies. Unique, bizarrely colorful, and-. ...

Wally's breath stalled and never came back, as realization came down upon him like a crashing wave. It was him. It was him. He'd seen him on TV before. Justice League. That neatly bi-colored look was definitive on him, a tell-tale red and white suit; that was the Doubletime Defender. _Deuce_. ... There was an ominous patch of blood around his right shoulder, and small bloodied slashes had torn greedily into his abdomen and thighs... ...

And, and the other one with him. Was that...? The theme was made self evident through all too visible punctuation preference, and his visible youth in comparison just about sealed it. That was the super smart young guy, wasn't it. 'Enigma', then, as Nightwing had informed him earlier. Apparently unharmed as of yet. But, what was going on? Weren't they supposed to be the heroes of this city? What were they doing?

"You say Dare, but I'd say you jumped the gun on that actually. I'm choosing Truth this time. Question, why won't you accept help when you are in clear need of it?"

Enigma spoke first, his diction danced along a weirdly playful buoyancy that lifted it to a lighter plane than its actual situational context. Despite this, his tone still sounded quite pressing, especially towards the end. He'd even placed his hands upon his hips and had leaned forward inquisitively, as though genuinely curious and eager to hear the answer.

"... _Answer._"

Nightwing began with a sad smile, the gun barrel slowly lowering, as his current state of vulnerability started to creep in evidence across his demeanor,

"Well-, _nngh_... you see, I'm actually just-. scared and confused, and-"

The gun shot up, _bang bang bang _right at Enigma's feet. Wally jolted back in alarm. The bullets must have only just missed them, deliberately of course, as the Gotham hero only flinched and took instinctive steps backwards. Deuce also moved, shifting in front of Enigma and lifting his hands up in a pacifying gesture as Nightwing continued to relentlessly pull the trigger... only for nothing to come out. Empty. Izzy appeared to look down at his firearm in childish grumpiness, only to throw back his head against the wall behind him and _laugh _at the whole thing, chucking it to one side carelessly like a discarded toy and pulling out a slew of small deadly sharp knives from his belt, each one fitting snug, prepared and ready between his fingers. He came off the wall again with an eager grin and drew back his right arm, damaged body visibly wracking with the occasional giggle. Enigma had recovered from the shock, and appeared visibly upset and concerned; that hadn't really been an answer... Deuce stood exactly where he was, still mostly blocking his younger accomplice, still holding an entirely mediatory air about him.

"Calm down, it's alright. It's alright. Please. Put the knives down. You're hurt. You need help."

Deuce's voice was generously earnest, and Wally could detect the genuine concern in his words. Hesitation silently dug into his soul, and he found himself quivering from nerves at just witnessing this incredibly precarious scene. At not doing anything about it. Increasingly torn between multiple options, none of which he felt experienced enough to pursue with any degree of absolute confidence, leaving him in a stationary state of painful indecision. Maybe... Maybe they were right. Izzy was _bleeding_. He... He needed to go to the hospital or something. The doctors could help him. Maybe that would be for the best...

A cackle echoed out from down below.

"I don't _need _anything."

Izzy mocked, it was clear from his tone that he had taken insult and offense to Deuce's tone with him, throwing back that perceived patronization right back in the hero's face. Come to think, Deuce's tone had been as if he were talking to a child. He was. Objectively. But Wally bit back his anxiety in predicting how Nightwing might react to that. He was appearing increasingly more desperate, in the way he staggered slightly in his perfectly retained knife-throwing stance. Deuce continued with caution, though his own desperation was just as evident.

"We _just _want to _help _you. There's a place where-"

"-you can lock me up and... throw away the key?"

Nightwing cut across him and finished with tired droll, a crooked smirk pasted across his face as he tilted to one side.

"We're not crazy."

He stated, simply.

"Nobody th-"

"We're _not __**crazy**__!_"

Wally had never heard Nightwing yell like that, and he wasn't sure he wanted to again. He thought back to their conversation on the tower, he thought back to what Izzy had told him. About what others thought of them, about why they and the Gotham Underground could never see eye-to-eye. His mind speculated on what would actually happen to Izzy if they took him away. He'd seen it in movies before, when the police first approach the person with gentle words and coaxing, but then at the end of the day they're sedated and bungled into the back of a police van, subjected to endless psychological testing and not allowed to leave the facility and-. ... This could all be a tactic. It can always be that. He doesn't _know _Deuce, or Enigma. Not like he knows Izzy. And for all the possibilities of genuine good interest, for all the promise of medical attention and for all the reasons in the world they could have to lock him up... All he saw was a friend of his, cornered and cracking under both physical and mental pressures that he shouldn't have to deal with. That he didn't _want _him to have to deal with.

Izzy didn't want to go. He understood that. Just like how he would never, ever want to go with the law guys back where he's from. It was scary. It was bad. It was _wrong_. It trapped them, it separated them from people they loved, it was dumb in the first place because they weren't _the bad guys_ anyway. The bad guys are the ones that do evil things to good people. Izzy only does stuff to the _actual _bad guys, and he himself just runs around doing stuff. Why do they get badly punished when there are so many more bad people out there doing so much worse things. It wasn't _fair_.

Nightwing was faltering in his stance again, and Deuce must have picked up on it, because he took a tentative step forward and spoke with that dumb gentle coaxing fakeness,

"It's alright. Take it easy, we're going to take you to a place where you can get fixed up."

Indignation reared deep within his heart, and he felt a surge of strong empathy for his younger friend. This was just like before. When he'd had his worst meltdown in that side-street, and those policemen tried to get him, and then Izzy had-. ... What was he _doing_. Why had he left it this long, damn it! _Damn it! _

Lightning surged abruptly in roaring waves about his limbs and not a thought more passed before something within his muscles snapped entirely, and his energy exploded from within. He was driving forwards at a colossal speed he hadn't even known he was capable of, his vision tunneling even from behind his protective goggles into a blur of forked bolts of bright light. One second he had been on a roof overlooking the alley, the next he was sprinting vertically down the side of the building as though he had done it all his life. His eyes were fixed on designated targets, his mind ran on thoughts that lay a hundred steps ahead of his feet, and somewhere amidst the rush of high winds he heard himself scream,

"LIKE _HELL _YOU WILL."

The other two didn't have time to even react.

Kid Flash kicked off the wall, one step on the ground, he was power sliding along the asphalt, merciless contact of his current motion with the backs of Deuce's legs, the momentum carried him right on and into the following wall, he tucked himself in and rolled upside it, three rolls before his feet again hit the brick and he kicked back off them, turning in the air and swinging his leg out, his boot connected with Enigma's upper chest, and using the continued movement to right himself in the air once more and he allowed himself to drop to the ground right in front of Nightwing.

He stood.

There was a moment in which nothing was heard but for the violent buzz of the crackling energy that caressed his limbs with vicious kinetic lightning. Kid Flash said nothing, his brain still ensnared in an endless lightspeed corridor of thought and his body still shuddering from the circulation of activity that had taken hold of his muscles. Deuce, and Enigma, were stirring and registering, he met eyes with them both. Something was going to be said, something was going to be done. It was going to happen right n-

The sound of movement behind him, a familiar explosion of smoke that clouded the vision in front of him, enveloping Deuce and Enigma within its folds of fog. He glanced back to Nightwing, who was now leaning back in a half-slump against the wall, clutching at his left arm with his right. Izzy met his gaze, and frowned as he yelled emphatically,

"_GO!_"

He wanted him to run?

He wanted him to run.

Oh, he'd run.

But not alone.

"_Only if I collect a Boy Soldier as I pass it, also two hundred dollars!_"

Without waiting, without asking and without thinking, he rushed forward and hefted the smaller boy swiftly and carefully over his right shoulder, making sure that left side of his was the least agitated it could possibly be for the ensuing trip. This time, even Nightwing didn't have time to react. One moment his vision was Kid Flash and smoke and silhouettes, and then he felt upside down and he was staring right into the speedster's spandex lathered lower back. Then, his vision simply crumbled away into a mess of dizzying greys and bolts of yellow and white. His vigilance training and emergency stamina kicked into overdrive and he willed himself to stay alert, stay conscious, stay _awake_. He could work with this. It was going to be okay. It was alright now. It's alright...

Everything was a cataclysm of vibrant colors and rumbling sounds. The speedster had no idea where he was going, no idea where he was taking the boy slung over his shoulder. His feet fell upon the earth in a mindless rhythm that propelled him blindly through this city of lights. Only fleetingly did he register when he broke out onto a main street, striking a path right down its center as blurs of metallic shapes and searing brightness flashed by either side of him. His mind was possessed by his emotions, a passionate instinct that surged from within and relentlessly validated his decision. This was the right thing to do. It was the right thing to do. It _felt __**right**_. Every inch of him had determined this, continued to do so with every step he took further from Gotham's 'heroes'. A pride welled in his chest as a mantra set deep into his mind.

He'd saved him.

He'd _saved _him.

That was what this feeling was. This sense of limitlessness that had taken hold. How he felt like he could run like this forever and ever. What adventure, what urgency, what _adrenaline. _He could practically feel it churning within his system, the eternally lopsided balance between his confined energies and the rush feeding upon them was steadily leveling out again. He'd just stolen the _Boy Soldier _from right under the noses of two of _Gotham's_ most famous _'heroes'_. The concept alone was mind-blowing, the sense of pressure _intoxicating_. He'd let them _see _him. They had _seen _him. They knew him now. The only question was, would they chase...? ...

Nah.

He wouldn't let them.

The brazen inner statement hacked only further into reserve energy stores, and his pace kicked it up yet another notch as he bolted down through the highways of Gotham City. Noting his priorities, he broke back off into alleys and side-streets only the moment he felt he had put enough distance between them and their could-be chasers. Deeper and deeper into the catacombs of stone and brick. Into the urban wilderness of decay and abandonment. Then higher, and higher, up the ivy of metal and bolts that clung to a nameless building. He slid to the smoothest halt he could, skidding along the rooftop and unearthing chunks of concrete in the process. He took just a few seconds to catch his heaving breath, performing split second calculations in his head. Roughly five miles of terrain crossed in twenty five seconds, that meant he'd been traveling at speeds something around... Seven hundred and twenty miles per hour. _Nice_. The closest he'd gotten to the speed of sound yet. But more importantly, that should be more than enough to have heavily delayed any tail those 'heroes' could have on them, whether by camera or trackers or whatever.

His heart weighed with a sudden instant panic in his neglect to factor in Izzy's condition with the speeds he had managed to achieve, this was only calmed by the cool rational logic reminding him that he had long learned that the energies that surround him and protect him from any physical side-effects of his speeds extend to whatever he carried on his person. As otherwise he reckoned his clothes would have routinely burned right off his body some time ago. Now _that _would have been embarrassing. But, yeah. That was right, right? That's how their powers worked. He. He swore Barry had told him that at some point, and it made sense. It extended to people too, definitely. Definitely. _Anyway anyway. _

Wally slowly knelt down, gently setting Nightwing on the ground and making absolutely sure not to jostle the stuff that was still embedded along his friend's side. The other boy made no motions or sound, or any indication that he was at all conscious of what was going on. Was he even awake... _Damn _it was hard to tell with that mask and everything. He tried to say something to him, but his building fears hushed it into hesitation. No, no he was beginning to doubt himself again. The pallor on the boy's face, the vivid red that was dripping down his arm, the absolute stillness; no, no, stupid, _stupid_, should have taken him to the hospital, let them take him to a hospital, he- he hadn't thought this far. Damn it. _Damn it_.

...

"... Izzy...?"

He finally managed, tentatively. His hands reached out instinctively to lay upon the other boy's chest, only to pause within seconds of reach and retract at the fingertips. Hesitation. Fear. Denial. It was all the same thing wasn't it. A silence persisted, and it was the most painful thing Wally West had ever heard. Everything was so still, so... motionless. He hated it. He hated it so _much_. It had to change. Something had to happen. That's how things _worked_. ... He took upon his courage and reached out, tapping Izzy lightly on the chest with two fingers. ... Nothing. Again. And then twice in succession. He placed his whole gloved hand on the crimson armor, shaking it gently.

"Izzy. Izzy wake up. It's okay! You're safe now...!"

... Nothing.

His insides slowly became hollow, and an emptiness threatened to engulf his sense of feeling. His breath stalled to a rattling halt, sweat began to bead once more at his temples, and nerves shook his hands with a merciless panic. Natural reactions began to kick in, and he issued a nervous laugh.

"C-Come on, dude, this isn't funny anymore..."

... That was it. He laughed again, putting a hand to his forehead and leaning back in his newfound lightheartedness. Oh man. This was _another _one of those games, wasn't it. Hardy harr harr. Very funny. So like him, too. Typical. He shakily lifted the scarlet goggles from his eyes and set them upon his forehead, directing blinking green eyes back down to his friend's form. With a broad grin that continued to quiver at the edges and strain with visible effort, he grabbed one of Nightwing's ankles and shook it slightly in rebuke.

"I'm not falling for this one, dude. I'm onto you. So you can stop pretending now..."

...

"_Duuudde_~, come on~. It's over. Admit defeat."

...

"St-stubborn aren't you."

...

"W-. Well alright, but you. You asked for it. A-hah!"

He waved in front of his face.

No response.

He prodded his cheeks.

Nothing.

He ran his fingers underneath the bundled scarf-like material and tickled at his neck.

_Nothing_.

He picked up the unharmed arm and lightly hit the inside of the elbow.

It dropped limply the second he let go.

... He reached out towards the shards of shrapnel embedded in Izzy's upper arm.

... ... ...

His fingertips came within millimeters of one. And he touched it, lightly.

... ... ...

He retracted, and withdrew his hand to his chest. His face had fallen into a quiet fear once more. Maybe... Maybe he should try with more technical things? Like the, um, plantar reflex or the uh, the... the brachioradialis... reflex... No, no he wasn't going to mess with Izzy's uniform just to confirm what he was already denying. He'd done the worst he could possibly have done. Of all things, he'd assumed _this _had been just another a _joke_. ... He'd wasted so much time already. What was he doing... What had he _done_...

... He withdrew further. He stood. He walked. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, his arms reaching up, his hands clustering into his hair, his head shaking from side to side. Okay. _Okay_. He was going to call someone. He had to call someone. Had to get someone. He couldn't do this by himself, that much he knew already. A hospital. A hospital would make him better for sure, but... but who they _were_... Maybe if he just-. No. No. It couldn't happen. It was both the best and worst option he had. Try again. Back to the 'heroes'? Also objectively the best option, but no, no no _no __**no**_, he immediately hated himself for even _considering _that idea. It would be the ultimate betrayal. He wouldn't do it. He _wouldn't_. How Izzy talked about them, how he'd looked in that alley, it was the last thing he would want. Never. _Never_.

.. He knew both Uncle Barry's home and cell phone number. He could call him, using the comm device Nightwing had given him. It had all those normal communication functions in it and all. Barry would know what to do. Barry could help him. ... ... But, in turn, he'd have to tell him _everything_. About how he was in _Gotham City _right now and not just 'outside town', about what he'd been doing behind his back this whole time, about _Izzy_... He'd lied to him, kept _secrets _from him. No, no no no, it was far too soon for him to shatter their trust in one another after it had taken so, so long and so much for them to rebuild it again over this year. It would ruin everything, and it might not even lead anywhere. Not in time. He couldn't let him know about all this. Not... Not yet... He'd just be causing him trouble, anyway... It was so late, and he was far away from here...

Wally issued a cry of lament and put his hands to his bowed head.

What was he going to do... What was he going to _do_...

...

He took a slow, deep breath, and approached this problem one more time. He thought of reversing the situation. If it were the other way around, if he were the one in that state and _Nightwing _was his only lifeline, what would _he _want _Nightwing _to do. This presuming that in such a hypothetical scenario Nightwing wouldn't already have the solution prepared and ready for him, just like he did last time, because unlike himself Izzy actually thinks things _through _and isn't a useless, stupid-. Ugh. No, stop, that wasn't helping anyone. ... ... He'd want... He'd want Nightwing to take him immediately to the person who was most capable of helping him. Whom he knew, whom he could trust, and who would definitely _definitely _know what to do _and _be able to do it. In other words...

... He'd want him to take him to Uncle Barry.

...

...

Wally looked back to where Nightwing's body lay.

...

Heh, oh you _had _to be joking.

He allowed his arms to fall to his sides just as a tired, wry smile of genuine amusement pulled across his own face. Steady footsteps took him to Izzy's side again, where he crouched down, encircling his arms carefully around the boy's back and legs before gradually hoisting him back over his shoulder. He almost sighed as he did so, still smiling in that ironic manner as he steeled his nerves in preparation for an even longer night than he had expected. He couldn't deny the excitement that was already beginning to stack into his mindset, though his heart was set on the mission as though it was his own life that depended on it. Not that this dedication would stop him from trying to keep a lighter tone for his friend, not to mention his own composure...

"Well, Izzy... Let's go find your boss..."

He turned, facing back towards the emergency stairs which he had clambered up to get up here in the first place. A split second of realizations connected within his head, of just what _exactly _he was going to do. The Dark Knight. He was going to find _The Dark Knight_. In Gotham _City_. The. Dark. Knight. The scariest damn thing he had ever heard of in anything, even worse than all those things in the horror movies he watched. Scarier because it was _real_. Something... some_one_ so god-awfully terrifying that he was said to be composed entirely of the stuff of nightmares. Possessing of such a hatred for all brands of criminals that he mercilessly slaughtered every single one he came across, devastating _anyone _who even simply got in his _way_. The way the press had talked about him, he was a monster. A demon. A killing _machine_. And he was looking for this guy in this city, this _huge _city that was up there with New York and Metropolis as some of the biggest hubs along the East Coast...

... Oh _hell_, who even cared about all that right now.

Wally lowered the goggles back down over his eyes with his spare hand, taking up a more readied position as he leaned forwards into a natural sprinter's start. The ball of his back foot was just lifting off the ground,

"Good luck with that."

A voice spoke bluntly from behind him.


	9. Wounds

Wally seized up. Frozen, utterly.

For a small while, he said nothing, swearing with panic that he was now imagining things... _Hearing _things. But... ... But... ... ...

"... I-... _Izzy_... ...?"

...

"Hi."

...

"Nice, _ngh_... -view from here."

...

"No... Really. I've always wanted to, _nngh_, stare at-. your _butt _all day..."

At the onset of impatient sarcasm in tone, Wally finally reacted, quickly- but carefully! - leaning down again and laying Izzy back on the ground. Where the latter. Of course. Promptly broke into a string of immature snorting and giggling, putting the hand of his unharmed arm to his mouth in an entirely not-serious attempt to stifle it. This eventually broke onto full on laughter, or as much as the youth could manage without straining himself too much in his condition.

Wally West... could not believe it.

He _literally _could not _believe _what was happening.

He still hadn't entirely registered what was going on.

What-... ...

He barely remembered to try and keep up with what Nightwing was saying in the meantime, his concentration and focus going in and out of the present time and catching up on what had actually just occurred.

'... -_see your __**face**__. ... ... -so __**funny! **__... were freaking out... ... almost got me there... ..._'

Just as Wally finally started registering what had been afoot this whole time, Izzy was in the midst of playing up the facade in his amusement. He put his unharmed arm across his forehead and feigned utter limpness, mouth gaping open as he waved his head from side to side in exaggeratedly fake delirium. Very obviously made up sounds of pain and suffering were thrown in for good effect.

"Oh, _KF_, the _pain_! It's just-... just too much to bear! _Nnghhaakgh._"

Also some coughing.

"Tell... Tell Sir..."

He reached up with his healthy arm and grabbed at the front of Wally's costume, pulling him down closer as he reached up and whispered dramatically.

"That I never... had... enough... ..."

His lips were practically to Wally's ear.

...

"_Allowance_."

He wheezed.

Before letting go and falling back against the roof, sniggering and hitting the concrete lightly with his able fist in display of his amusement.

... No. No this one wasn't okay, actually.

This is where he'd draw the line.

"... Why did you _do that_."

Wally asked vehemently, momentarily forgetting about the actual wounds Nightwing had. If those were even _real_... Nightwing ceased his snickering in time to grin carelessly to himself and tip his head to one side, the white flash of his teeth at once dangerous and sinister,

"I wanted-... To see what would. -happen..."

...

"For the... _ngh_, _record... _You did very well..."

He couldn't tell whether that smile and tone were genuine or patronizing. Curling his fingers into fists at his sides, he shook from a multitude of emotions that swept over him. Closing his eyes, he turned his head away from the other boy and took a moment to see whether he could just let this go. ... No, no it had to get out. He snapped his head back to Nightwing and raised his voice, frowning seriously and pointing a finger at him.

"Don't_ DO THAT_."

He yelled. Nightwing's smile didn't even flinch, though he had become quiet and seemed intent on watching where Wally's outburst would take him. He was all too happy to indulge him on this one.

"_Don't_. Don't _ever _do that again, okay. That _wasn't _funny. Not-. Not _this _time."

...

"I thought it was pretty funny."

Practically a shrug in response, and he was still smiling.

But Wally didn't let it go.

"_No_. It _wasn't!_"

"Why."

"_Because_-!"

"Because why."

"_**Because! **__You really scared me, okay? I thought you-! ... I was-... ..._"

...

...

Izzy's smile had widened oddly; that crooked smile he had come to recognize that meant that he was pleased by what he had heard, that he had obtained something he had been working towards, that he had been... satisfied... ... A deeper understanding dawned on Wally, and stark realization once more came onto him. ... A silence lasted between them, until Wally, shaking and barely able to stop his voice from doing the same, sealed the last of it once and for all.

"... I was worried about you. ... _Really_. Worried... I didn't want you to be... y'know... hurt bad..."

...

"I didn't... want you to... I dunno, _die _or something... ..."

...

He felt dumb saying all that. At least, that's what it sounded like to him. And embarrassing. This isn't the kind of thing he wanted the other boy to hear. It wasn't 'cool' or 'manly' at all, and he was admitting to things even he didn't entirely understand or comprehend yet. Stuff he wasn't sure he ever would. He fully expected Nightwing to laugh at him, mock or ridicule him as he was made the laughing stock at his own expense yet again. ... But none of these things ever came about. Izzy only continued to smile up at him in that bizarre, twisted way he couldn't quite read beyond his available initial analysis... Eventually Izzy pushed himself up into a sitting position using his healthy arm, with only the aid of tremendous visible effort and what had to be a terrifying amount of stamina. His smile cracked into an amused grin as his right hand went to the back pockets of his belt and pulled out a rolled up, bound kit of some sort.

"You have... a spare hand-. you could lend me...?"

Breathing a sigh of comforted relief, Wally felt free to move on from that all from before and... just focus on some fun stuff again. Stuff that wouldn't give him such a headache, and would make him feel better. _Them_, feel better... The opportunity seemed to present itself aptly with the oncoming of comedy they could now both understand, or rather that Wally could now attune his humor onto Izzy's wavelength at almost freakishly natural speeds at this stage of having known him.

"Sure, just gimme a sec to saw it off."

KF made a saw shape with his right hand and 'sawed' at his left arm, making exaggerated sawing sound effects whilst Izzy laughed in genuine amusement. The Laughing Young Devil rolled out the black bundle, and Wally's brief forays into medical science allowed him to not only identify that yes, duh, it was a First Aid kit, but that it was an incredibly advanced and well composed one. He could hazard a guess that actually, the kid had everything here that he would possibly need for the basic steps of addressing his current wounds for the time being. ... Damn. What had he been so worried about...

As they set about to work, Izzy managed to calm Wally's nerves (about handling such a thing without any doctors or grown-ups around and being trusted with another person's state of health full stop) by simply going through some steps of the process. He first pointed out that if KF had been paying attention and had looked closer, he'd have noticed that the _steel fragments_- **not **to be confused with _shrapnel_, he emphasized- in his upper thigh, stomach and side actually hadn't punctured his body. They had been largely stopped by the layers upon layers of kevlar in those areas, 'That's kinda what it's there for'. So they were free to tug those out as harmlessly as candles on a birthday cake.

At this point Izzy mentioned that he hadn't been bothered on taking them out, or addressing the actual problematic ones along his arm, earlier whilst he was 'playing dead' because you had to wait until they cooled down first. Even after the flight from Deuce and Enigma, KF's run hadn't even been a minute long, so he'd reckoned they would still have to cool down. Wally reflected that when he'd poked one earlier, it had felt kinda warm underneath his glove... Though he'd been _too busy having a panic attack because dead friend alert _to take any note of it at the time.

This led to the actual stressful part of dealing with the ones embedded in Izzy's upper arm. They still seemed to err on the smaller side, thankfully, once Wally had cared to take a closer look at them. None of them appeared to have exit wounds, even. Nevertheless the damage they were causing was still bad in his view, and it held the evidence of the thin streams of blood that were still dribbling down Nightwing's arm that Wally was _still _trying not to look at. This naturally led to 'squeamish' jokes from Izzy as he promptly tried to wave the fragment-impaled arm in Wally's face. Nevertheless, Nightwing again emphasized nonchalantly that really they were 'just punctures with impaled objects'. In that exact 'no big' kind of tone and even with a wave of his hand, which prompted conversation from Wally on just what even had to happen for him to be _fazed _by something. Izzy left that as a mystery for him to maybe one day find out, though Kid Flash himself wryly doubted whether he'd ever see such a thing. Because at this point he doubt it even _existed_. The thought of which was simply mindboggling. As under that line of interpretation, Izzy was close to... _unbreakable_, or something...

They cut away the short sleeve of the undershirt around his shoulder, then irrigated and cooled the afflicted area of his arm first, sterilizing both the entry sites and a probe with an Iodine-based solution that Izzy _assured _him was of the correct concentrations. After also assuring him multiple times that the fragments hadn't hit anything vital and that he wasn't going to start bleeding all over the place if the pieces were removed, Wally finally agreed to help take it all out. After using the probe to locate all the internal debris, the extraction process was awkward to say the least. But between a pair of forceps, more antiseptic, Nightwing's one hand and Wally's shuddering two, they just about managed it. The more Wally did it and the longer Izzy just talked to him idly about variations of relatable 'blast injuries', the more confident Wally became in the task. By the time it got to fishing out the smaller internal debris with the aid of the probe, his hands were considerably more steady than when they had started out. And this was right as Nightwing was just telling him how he even got these wounds. Grenade blast, apparently. 'Standard issue M67'. A good amount of meters away from him at least, and at an angle too. He just... hadn't gotten entirely out of the way in time. 'Stupid, really...'. For the first time, Wally noted his tone was actually self-deprecating... even... shameful.

Checking and rechecking that that had been the last of it, Nightwing again remarked on his luck in position and placement when the grenade went off. He'd _definitely _experienced worse before. This was _meant _to make Wally feel better and happier for him, Wally realized this. And it did. ... But really he didn't think Izzy realized it actually made him feel _worse_ in many ways too. He didn't want to think of that these 'worse' things than _this _were that Izzy had apparently undergone... A couple of the wounds would need stitches, and after affirming that Wally knew bare basics on 'how to sew' and giving him extra pointers, Wally was left to work at it using the equipment provided, whilst Izzy seemed suddenly preoccupied with something else. Specifically, putting a finger to his ear as he had done so some time ago and looking off vaguely in some direction.

Wally couldn't help but listen in, pretending he wasn't and focusing on his work, but... definitely listening in. Who wouldn't? He could only hear Izzy's end of the conversation, but the gist came across even with that handicap.

...

"Here. Did you-. make it back?"

"That's great!"

...

"I'm fine, but what about-"

...

"I'm _fine_, really!"

"Really really."

...

"Yeah just stitching and dressing now."

...

"No, KF's helping, so... it's a _lot _easier than last time. But are _you _ok-"

...

"Yes. Yes I remembered to apply the solution generously and-"

...

"But it doesn't _hurt! _I won't even notice by tomorrow...!"

Wally suppressed a snort, and every other expression of amusement. Izzy's tone had rapidly spiraled into one of a child deeply embarrassed by an overbearingly attentive parent. He was just waiting for the '_You're embarrassing meeee' _line any moment now, oh man this was just _too _priceless. Context was swept away entirely in his head, forgotten in this moment of humored empathy and an entirely relatable situation.

...

"It's really _nothingggg_. Just-. keep your promise and watch that movie with me tonight, okay...?"

"You _promiseddd_."

...

"Tell him to make milkshakes."

"Strawberry."

...

"You still haven't told me-. if _you're _okay... "

...

...

"_Hehe_, see~? I told you it'd work!"

...

"Yeah but I'll be back too _reeeaaallllly _soon won't I."

...

"And _then _we watch the movie."

...

"Okay!"

...

"W-wow, thanks..."

...

"Uh-huh. See you soon!"

Wally resisted all temptation to look up as Nightwing ended the conversation, finishing the last of the awkward but uh, satisfactory stitches just as Izzy turned back to him with a look that was buzzing with radiant energy. He didn't even have to ask who that was, of course, but he felt like he didn't have much to say on the matter. Not that it was his place to butt in anyway, but, he just preferred to quietly wonder about all that. It sure seemed... weird? In running with all the other experiences he had shared and seen with this boy, then again the home life of his younger acquaintance was entirely unexplored territory... And Wally felt extremely privileged and trusted to have been able to just be in the same _place _as Izzy as he had rattled off in what seemed like an entirely routine, but private conversation holding an undeniable level of intimate connection. He began buying into the rumored notion that The Dark Knight and Nightwing were father and son, or something very close to it anyway...

He could feel Izzy's eyes staring into his skull as he pretended to look over the stitching for the umpteenth time, and he knew in that moment he was being suspected of harboring thoughts. He probably was being a bit too quiet, yeah. Heh, that wasn't like him at all. So, he'd have to offer him _some _form of comment... Well, there was _one _thing he was wondering about. As he let go of Nightwing's arm and turned to the bundles of loose, sterile dressing, he voiced his query.

"So... How did you end up in that situation anyway? I mean, grenade blast yeah, but... You were with the uh... um... Dark Knight, because you went to meet with him in the first place, right? So why were you guys even split up..."

It'd have to have been involuntary, especially if it was in the heat of things. When stuff got serious in Central City, or as serious as they got to there anyway, he tended to stick to Uncle Barry's side as though he were the most ridiculously powerful adhesive in the world.

Izzy seemed to reflect on this, probably on whether and how much to reveal, before shrugging his healthy shoulder and simply spilling it out.

"Sir was busting a ring of arms dealers we'd been tracking since last month-... _ngh_, when it turned out it was actually a much larger operation than we'd-... anticipated. They'd formed some-. last minute alliances over this week and sprung them the moment they were-... under _attack_... That's why I was called in to help out. ...But by the time I arrived-. Our 'heroes'... had been tipped about it, joined in and it-. became this three-way _mess_. ... Then, grenades, 'boom'. ... ... I got the shy end of some of it, but I was doing a lot better than-. Sir. He was... hurt really bad... ... The gangs were subdued kinda quickly though, because... both the Underground and us were... mostly targeting _them_... But we knew-. We _knew _that once the gangs would be depleted, those police-lackey jerks... would turn on _us_ and treat _us _no differently than the bad guys we were _all _trying to get rid of... So when those 'heroes' moved to take custody of the surrendering gangs... I said we should make a break for it..."

Wally was thoroughly taken in by the tale, winding the dressing around the last, smaller and more insignificant wounds with much attention and yet unable to stray his mind too far from its vivid imagination of this scene as it was told to him. Izzy took a brief pause, either catching his breath or simply reflecting in wonder about it again, but he eventually continued.

"... I said... I told Sir because he was hurt a lot lot more than me, he should _definitely _make it back to the plane... But there were a _bunch _of 'heroes' in this group tonight, _four _in total, and in his condition... ... So for that, I said I'd lure a few of them away to give him a better chance of getting out okay..."

Izzy chuckled to himself in idle amusement.

"He didn't like that idea at all... But I just said it was the best chance we had at _both _making it out okay... I somehow managed to persuade-. him, though... I just kept saying I'd definitely _definitely _make it back too..."

A smirk spawned across his face, its nature immediately dark and foreboding.

"... ... ... Anyway... So then I made a really visible run for it. They knew I'd been hit. By an earlier blast... and must have seen the evidence again in that moment. ... I managed to get _two _chasing after me..."

"Deuce and 'Enigma'..."

Wally voiced in understanding, showing that he was following closely.

Nightwing smiled whimsically and tapped his chin with a finger.

"... Yeah... ... Those two... I figured The Joker would leave Harlequin in charge of the captured mob guys before the police came, leaving only him to pursue Sir once he also made his own run, for the plane and all... I just led those other two as far away as possible, before my options began narrowing down... And then-. Well. ... You know the rest..."

...

"You were a great _Get Out of Jail Free _card, by the way."

Nightwing added breezily, a flash of teeth accompanying the tease as he played in delight along an earlier thread of comedic value. One that had been provoked by Wally himself, so he quite happily took some pride in that.

... A pause then lingered after he had finished, and Wally finally felt as though he could leave Nightwing's arm be after checking it over pointlessly for the last few times. He drew it out for as long as he could mostly because he was using it as something to do to give him time to mull over the story without it being an awkward silence or anything. Once he'd let go of Izzy and leaned back on the balls of his feet, still crouching there in front of him, he itched at his cheek and mentioned offhandedly.

"That's... That was pretty cool of you..."

"... Hmm~. ..You would have done the same... for your Uncle."

Nightwing mused absently, regarding him with an analytical smile.

Kid Flash gave a short laugh and a modest shrug,

"Hahah. Yeah... Yeah, definitely... "

A thought struck him in that moment, and he snapped his fingers as apt representation for his 'A-ha!' moment. With some visible enthusiasm he bobbed forward slightly and vaguely pointed a finger in Izzy's direction whilst the latter went over some final inspections of his wounds.

"Hey! This means we're even now, right?"

Izzy looked back to him, blankly inquisitive.

"For the thing."

...

"The thing. You know. Back when you uh, helped me out a little, some months ago... with the police guys and uh, my... 'meltdown'... I finally paid you back for that! So, now we're even!"

He ended with a beaming, self-satisfied grin. Nightwing returned it, but it was far _far _more impish in tone, which in turn matched his following voice.

"Hnnn~ _no~. _We're still not even."

Wally's face promptly fell in a rather comical manner. He practically spluttered.

"Wh-_what_? But- But I. I took down _Deuce!_ A-_and _Enigma! Sure for like, a second but, like. Yeah!"

"Exactly."

... ? ?

A labored sigh.

"You 'took down' _Deuce _and _Enigma_. I just... neutralized some policemen back when all that happened... This is... kind of a bigger deal..."

Realization finally came to Wally, and his grin widened considerably. Come to think, he hadn't had time to really bask in the significance of just what he had done back there. Those guys were _professionals_, the real deal. They'd been working even longer than Captain Cold! Well, Deuce for sure. And he'd taken them on, for even just one second... That... that _was _pretty awesome, wasn't it? Aw man, how _cool _was _he_..._! _Barely in his first year of, um, cape stuff, and he ruffles some of the biggest names in the business! ... But wait, that _Nightwing _had pointed it out... So, did that mean...

"S-so you mean... _You _owe _me _again?"

A one shouldered shrug and tilted smile.

".. _Sweet!"_

Wally threw his arms into the air in glee, aptly reacting just as a child would after winning a contest and getting the bonus prize on top of just the most awesome satisfaction of victory. Coming back down to earth, the speedster bobbed forward again in his positively energetic mood and wagged his finger in front of his face again, his grin now playfully challenging.

"I gotta say Izzy, I look forward to seeing how you'll top _this _one."

Nightwing simply lifted his own hand and 'scissored' Wally's wagging forefinger between his own index and middle fingers, the abrasive thick and metallic material of his gloves crushing the digit softly, drawing it away from his face to reveal his scheming smile.

"I'll find a way."

Kid Flash merely budged his forefinger back out of Izzy's trap, shifting his digits around artfully until his pinky finger linked in with that of the other boy. He leaned forward and grinned, shaking their pinky fingers up and down, as if to seal forever this secret pact to keep helping each other, no matter what. With a declarative voice that resounded throughout the years to come,

"_You're on_."

. - . - .

Izzy had only watched the schoolyard ritual with a quiet studying look as it had played out, which led in turn to Wally having to explain to the younger boy what a 'pinky swear' even was. He still didn't really get it after the lesson, which only provoked reflection in the speedster that, now that he thought about it, it was kinda random to him too. He'd have to Google where it came from later... Anyway, more importantly, the sense of its significance didn't seem to be lost on the other boy. He even wanted to do it again, now that he knew what it meant. So they had. Only, Izzy couldn't resist the temptation to abruptly force Wally's hand down and slam it against the roof, uprooting the speedster's precarious balance on his feet and making him fall over too. Something like a sudden brutal arm wrestling move, which is exactly what Wally had called it, over Nightwing's cackling laughter anyway.

As boys would be boys, this naturally eventually turned to the two simply having arm wrestling contests. Izzy won. Every. Single. Time. Which left Wally baffled to the point of wanting to run back to his room and cry in confusion. This kid was like, only as tall as his _chin_. His arms were tiny. _Tiny! _He was both older _and _bigger, didn't that = stronger? Oh man this was so embarrassing. He kept at it in the conviction that it was just flukes or tricks every time, and that he'd win at least once. It became an absolute non-issue when Izzy offered to wrestle with his wounded arm instead, 'To make it fair'. That _smirk_. ... Yeah sometimes it was the smarter thing to just give up, okay. He promised he'd be back stronger than ever for next time though, and didn't let go of the theory that Nightwing was tricking him somehow. It all made the other boy laugh, which is what he found most important. Most gratifying...

Their more rambunctious choices in activity died down again once Izzy started showing visible signs of fatigue and mild pain again, naturally the effect of his arm, not to mention the harrowing night in general... As a result the two were content to just sit there next to each other, looking out over the city, listening to the 2 am traffic... and waiting... Somewhere in the back of his mind, Wally mused that he was going to be really late getting back home... ... Oh well... That didn't seem so important to him right now, honestly... ...

The comfortable silence continued for quite a while, until eventually, it was Izzy who broke it.

"Thanks."

...

"No problem."

...

Izzy sounded amused, turning his head and looking over to him,

"Not... just for that... ..."

...

"... Oh?"

...

"What you decided on... When I pretended not to wake up... You could have taken me to the hospital... back to those 'heroes'... ... ... You're _terrified _of him."

Izzy ended with an all-too-knowing smirk, but there was a softer tone underneath it, something a little more... graceful...

Wally understood him. Closing his eyes and smiling to himself, he leaned back from his sitting position all the way until he toppled back onto the roof's surface, laying one arm across his midriff as the other slid underneath his head. He answered.

"Yup."

...

Izzy looked back to the city.

...

The gravity of the moment weighed heavy upon the atmosphere, as recognition and understanding passed between them without any need for words. The importance, the significance and the _meaning _of what Wally had been prepared to do unfurled itself in silence and dug its roots deep into the foundations between them. The elder boy allowed for it to sink in, soaking up the quiet appreciation that now hung like drapes over this little area. His mouth twitched further into a broader smile, and with his eyes still closed, he simply added,

"You _really _didn't care about those wounds, did you..."

"Nope."

Wally chuckled loudly at the shrug of an answer, still remaining in his entirely relaxed state and demeanor as he did so.

"... What."

He heard Izzy ask flatly. Wally relented with an easy smile.

"_Ah~ dude~..._ ... You're so_, so __**cool**__.._."

...

"... You think so?"

"Um, _yeah._"

_Duh_. Anyone with _that __**insane **_level of tolerance for pain and a bonus genuine lack of any care for it, heck that whole ability to keep other priorities above self-preservation and persevere through even really bad things just for the sake of a mission, ranked up there with not looking back at explosions in coolness factors. Another few things he'd learned from TV and action movies. He wondered if Nightwing even knew the meaning of 'surrender'. He'd seen that look on his face, when he'd been cornered back in that alley. That feral grit that had possessed him. Practically bleeding his arm off and having ran god knows how many blocks just so he could make sure his boss got home safely. What kind of physical and _mental _stamina even _was _that for a non-powered human, a kid that was even _younger _than he was... It was unbelievable. Incredible.

... Amazing, really.

No matter what else anyone could ever think of him, Wally would think that you could never, ever deny him at least that...

... Well now he'd gone and inflated the kid's ego. At least it sure seemed that way as Izzy smirked to himself in that self-satisfied way he tended to, looking back out over the multitude of rooftops spread out in front of them. Smug jerk. ... But _damn _if he actually did have a reason to be on this one... Still a bit of contextual deflation wouldn't do any harm. Hahah, it'd make _him _feel better anyway.

"Whoa there, rein that ego in, dude. You _still _don't have any super powers."

Wally laughed outloud, only attempting to stifle it after feeling Izzy's rebuking wrath in the form of a sharp 'playful' hit of the younger boy's armored gauntlet-bearing hand to Wally's own ankle. _Ow_. ... Ah well, nothing his metabolism wouldn't eat right up and heal anyway. He continued to snort and snicker occasionally even after that.

Another period of quiet soon cast over them again, but this time it was far more brief.

"Shouldn't you be... getting back? It's pretty late, for you."

Nightwing observed aloud, putting the hand of his healthy arm to his chin and tapping it lightly. Wally sat up again, rubbing his eyes with both his hands and blearily looking over to his smaller friend.

"Hm? ... Oh, yeah, I guess..."

... He hadn't meant to sound so hesitant. He sure didn't _want _to sound that hesitant. But nope, too late. And before he could even make up reasons as to why he was lingering and delaying it, Nightwing, astute as always, leaped upon the predominant answer within seconds in a very certain tone of voice.

"Some~one's scared of the da~ark~."

... Stupid detectives.

"It-It's not _just _that! I mean, it's not that _at all!_"

Aaannd here came the hysterics.

Well he'd just talk over him then.

"Seriously! Even though the energy levels never dip, I'm still running really low on my actual _fuel_. I'm _starving _and I don't have anything left to eat...! I'll probably just, collapse somewhere in Ohio or something..."

After he'd finished laughing about the nighttime cross-country running fears thing, Izzy wiped away some imaginary tears and perked in his direction. His smile was that assured variety, the one that expressed how he clearly knew what he was doing. Wally tensed slightly in anticipation of what he was going to reveal next, especially once his healthy arm shifted to the back of his belt and seemed rustling around for something.

"Aren't _you _lucky someone _else _is always prepared..."

He promptly took out a bunch of energy snack bars from his rear belt pocket, waving them in front of Wally's face teasingly before dropping them into his lap. After expressing his instant immense gratitude through a garble of words and noises, the speedster abruptly put his hands to the food to his mouth. As he worked his way through these all too appreciated gifts, Izzy averted his gaze and began talking idly about some ideas, such as what to do next time they meet up, whether it should be in Central or Gotham, or maybe even somewhere else, their options were pretty open after all. They always had their line of communication, so planning now wasn't an absolute necessity. ... But, as for shorter term ideas...

"... I think I'll just give you a lift."

"... _Huh?_"

Wally spluttered out amidst his gorging, not even pausing despite his confusion as Izzy continued.

"Back to Central City. ... Yeah. Yeah, that sounds do-able. And fair."

He smirked back at Kid Flash, and the latter nearly choked on his food the moment his mind put two-and-two together.

"_Doesh thet meen-_" He swallowed, "- I-... _**I**_ get to go in your _**jet**__?_"

Izzy smirked airily.

"... Maybe."

After downing the second-to-last energy bar, Wally took a breather simply to backtrack and ask with a great deal of genuine concern,

"But... _dude_, your _arm_. Shouldn't you go back to... wherever it is you live and rest and stuff?"

Once again Izzy seemed entirely unbothered by the whole thing, shrugging lightly again.

"No. It's fine..."

...

"... Hey, KF..."

Wally was already halfway through the last bar, though he cared to look up and make a questioning noise even as he continued to eat.

"Are you okay...?"

A crease had formed upon Izzy's brow, and his voice sounded very concerned all of a sudden. The ginger haired boy finished off the last of the generously donated snacks in a gulp, tossing the wrapper carelessly over his shoulder and looking over at the younger boy in absolute confusion. His vision blurred and shuttered weirdly as he did, he reckoned he'd turned too fast. Whoops.

"H-_hm_?"

Izzy was still looking pretty worried, as far as he could tell with his vision, which was currently fading around the edges and... tunneling, weirdly enough. He was feeling really dizzy too... Man, these late hours sure were catching up to him, huh... that and the cross-country run from earlier, probably...

"You look _really _tired... Maybe you should sleep a little."

Izzy's voice echoed, and he just caught the edges of that mouth curling into a dark smile.

... Wait.

No.

Wally turned back awkwardly to look at where the pile of energy bar wrappers lay, his arms and legs rapidly losing their sense of feeling so that when he turned back to Nightwing he could barely sense what they were doing any more. Izzy was grinning deviously at him, then _laughing_. His vision was blurring and fading, he wanted to say something, wanted to _move, _but all he felt himself do was topple uselessly onto his side in utter frailty as a shadow fell across him. The Laughing Young Devil was now standing over him, waving goodbye with his hand. The boy chimed in a sing-song voice as the world closed in around him, and darkness swallowed everything.

"_Good night, Wally~..._"


	10. Art & Facts

...

...

...

...

... _Ugh_.

His _head_.

What a headache... And it sure wasn't helped when he attempted to crack his eyelids open. Stupid light... He felt around with a heavy hand and managed to hit upon something soft and cushion-y. Definitely a pillow. With an exaggerated groan he grabbed at it with both his hands and stuffed his head under it, being exactly that kid who refused to get out of bed in the morning... It was only after his headache began to subside, and when feeling began to return to the very tips of his toes that _wasn't _an aching acheyness, that he began to gather any sort of motivation to care for where he was or what had happened. All that mattered for the first moments of his consciousness was that he was on a bed, and it was comfy...

...

... Okay. Probably time to get some kind of bearing or something. Grumpily, he shoved the pillow off from over his head and turned over on to his side, squinting his eyes open... When the flood of light, natural sunlight, he noted, had subsided, color and sharpness flushed back into his vision and painted the scene out in front of him. It was... immediately familiar to him. That closet over there, the chest of drawers, that carpet and the color of the walls... He frowned to himself in thought and turned over to his other side, where he was met by a large window veiled by curtains, through a crack between which rays of sunlight streamed through. ... Yeah, he knew this room. It was...

Uncle Barry's apartment.

Made alert by this realization, he sat bolt upright in bed all of a sudden, running his hands over the covers of the bed and looking it over, as though actively confirming his thoughts. This was... definitely...

As if to helpfully cement his hypothesis, the door to the bedroom clicked open and the familiar figure of his Uncle carefully walked through and seemed headed towards the closet... until he noticed Wally was up. At which point he turned and faced him, folding his arms across his chest. Uh-oh...

"Hey, kid. How 'you feeling?"

Wally clenched at the bed covers awkwardly, as of yet unsure as to how much Barry was aware of. He decided to play it... vague, for now, so he could find out.

"_Umm_... Good. Good! I feel good..."

Barry looked entirely unconvinced, so Wally provided just a teensy bit more.

"Uhh, apart from a headache. Got a... bit of a headache..."

Eheh.

Barry heaved an unsympathetic sigh, reaching into his trouser pocket and fishing out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it as he talked.

"No wonder about _that_. So. What _were _you doing last night, again...?"

He tossed the paper onto the bed, and Wally tentatively picked it up, drawing it towards him and leaning over it as he began to read. Barry added a few more considerations to take into account as he did.

"Found you outside the building at 4 am in the morning, with _this _taped to your chest."

...

'_Dear Whom it May Concern... (you know who you are), _

_You really need to keep a better eye on the kid. What kind of mentor figure are ya anyway? We were just on a nice, normal, standard night patrol when we came across this one slumped in the gutter outside a downtown bar. He was surrounded by empty bottles of wine and other alcoholic drinks. We don't know what he was up to but, he's getting to that age, ya know. You were lucky we came across him first. He gets a free pass this time, but keep 'im out of trouble! _

_- C.C , ... (you know who I am) _'

...

_**What**_.

"He's right, you _were _lucky they came across you first. But I'm very, very disappointed in you Wally. I want you to know that. A 'long run just outside of town'? You can come tell me what happened when you're ready, once your _'headache' _is better, but until then I hope you understand how shocked I am at your behavior. _Unbelievable_."

Before Wally could even emote properly in his utter confusion, his Uncle briskly departed the room, muttering how if it hadn't come from Leonard he wouldn't have believed it for a second.

...

Ju-...

H-...

...

_**What**_.

Wally ran his fingers over the lined paper, reading it over again and again. That was definitely, _definitely _Captain Cold's manner of speech. The way he'd address Uncle Barry, being mindful of keeping some secrecy but still coming across as amazingly blunt and to the point, slipping into his speaking word even as he wrote... The writing looked like it could be his, too, it certainly suited him with its articulated, yet scratchy style. Leonard Snart definitely knew that his Uncle Barry was The Flash, it all made so much sense. ... But he definitely, _definitely _wasn't out _drinking alcohol _last night, so what-...

...

( _'I faked your handwriting, slipped some notes where they live and work. ' _)

( _'He'd have gotten your 'note' by now though, your Uncle. Actually, I know he has. Made sure he did.'_ )

( _'You're so_ _**funny**_.' )

...

... _**Darn it **__**Izzy!**_

. - . - .

He'd sighted his Kid Flash costume slung over the back of a nearby chair, and quickly he shifted over to it and grabbed at one of the gaudy red gauntlets, clicking open the primary compartment and looking for his comm device so he could write CAPS LOCK texts to Izzy for making his Uncle think he's a premature drunk. Turns out he'd grabbed the wrong gauntlet, as the comm device wasn't in there... However, something else _was_. Tipping it out with growing curiosity, he recognized that it was a sleek, black USB flash drive. The moment the drive fell onto his skin, it emitted a brief blue light against his palm, that eventually turned to green before switching off again. ... _Huh_. He... definitely hadn't had that in there before... ...His green eyes flitted over to the laptop which was oh so helpfully sitting atop the chest of drawers over there.

A quick trip over there and back again, and he was back under the covers with the laptop on his thighs, booting it up and plugging in the memory stick. It took a while for the whole thing to load, and then again for it to even register the external device. Ugh, _too __**slow**_... ... But then finally he was able to open it up and see just what this drive contained. A folder entitled, 'Wally Visits Gotham City' ... Um, okay... What was in it? ... JPEGs, apparently. A lot of 'em. Enlarging the icons in the menu, he saw that they were... photos?

He opened the first one.

... Okay, a nice shot of him lying splat on the rooftop ground unconscious and apparently having started drooling.

-)

... A nice shot of him lying splat on the rooftop ground unconscious and still drooling, whilst a black gloved hand does the 'Peace' sign in the near corner foreground of the shot.

-)

... Still him unconscious and drooling on the ground, the black gloved hand in the foreground now doing a thumbs up, and the photo now featuring a new pair of large, black armor-booted feet that were standing over him on the other side.

Oh.

Oh god.

Was that-.

That...

...

-)

Close up of his red gloved hand being held up in the 'Peace' sign, specifically doing 'bunny ears' over what looked like a two-pointed black cowl thi- _oh god yeah it was definitely him. _

_Oh god. _

_**God**__._

...

-)

His unconscious body slumped against a big lowered wheel that extended down from a network of thick metal pinions and joints, he could just see the flat black surface of metal plating along the top of the photo. The _jet_, then.

-) His red gloved hand being made by smaller black-coated fingers to point down into the alley where he had saved Nightwing. The other matching bunch of tiny dark-gloved fingers was doing a thumbs up at the other side of the photo.

-) His hand being made to point up at the large 'W' at the top of the skyscraper they had talked on.

-) His hand being made to thumbs up beside a linear trail of yellow and red graffiti paint on a residential building's wall.

-) His hand being made to hi-five Nightwing's in front of a company tower, you can just make out the top of Izzy's black hair.

-) His body sitting in a limp slouch on a wooden bench, propped up only by Nightwing's visible side next to him along the edge of the photo. Izzy's arm is slung around his shoulders and the hand of it is pinching his cheek, pulling it into a funny face.

-) Him lying 'languidly' across the branch of a planted tree. Izzy's hand is pointing at him.

-) Him sitting slumped atop a mountain of garbage at the dumping site, as though he were its king.

-) Him pointing at ships at the dock.

-) Knocking on the door to an abandoned warehouse.

-) Sitting under a sign advertising a Steel Mill company.

-) Slung over a carved stone grotesque on the corner heights of an older building.

-) A large, _spiked _black gauntlet.

-) A shot largely obscured by a long black cape.

-) Someone's arm.

-) Black hair.

-) Masked eye.

-) Masked eye with his own ginger hair somewhere in the background.

-) Blurry version of previous photo.

-) Weirded out/terrified mobster.

-) Weirded out/terrified civilian.

-) Weirded out/terrified Mayor of Gotham City.

-) Weirdly not terrified Enigma with an arm around his unconscious body and giving the camera a cheery thumbs up.

-) Same photo except with a small black-gloved thumbs up now at the side in the foreground.

...

(- Weirdly not terrified Enigma with an arm around his unconscious body and giving the camera a cheery thumbs up.

...

...

-) Same photo except with a small black-gloved thumbs up now at the side in the foreground.

...

-) Weirded out/terrified policewoman.

-) Weirded out/terrified security guard.

-) A building.

-) Another building.

-) A dog.

-) A neon light fixture.

-) The dog again.

-) A sign containing a punctuation error.

-) Zoom in of where the sign made a punctuation error.

-) Upside down shot of Gotham at night.

-) The wheel of their jet again.

-) View of Gotham's skyline at night outside a slanted glass window.

-) Large spiked gauntlet hand holding an aircraft side-stick

-) Wally's unconscious body lying in a corner.

-) A strawberry milkshake sitting in a cup-holder.

-) _Toy Story _playing on a screen on the dashboard.

-) The Mid-west countryside at night outside a slanted glass window.

-) Photo of the forged letter from Captain Cold... with a small black-gloved thumbs up.

-) Wally's body slumped outside Barry's apartment building, with a once again cut-off Izzy standing over him in the corner and giving a visible 'Peace' sign to the camera.

-) Same photo except Izzy's making it look like Wally's picking his nose.

-) Further back shot of Wally sitting just by the building's door.

...

...

And that was the last of them.

Wally slumped back in his chair, absolutely stunned beyond words or comprehension... ...

... _Huh_...

He looked back over his shoulder to make sure Barry hadn't snuck into the room, before selecting the whole folder and attempting to drag it over into My Pictures. ... ... It... didn't want to drag over there, for some reason. Copy and Paste? ... Uhh, _Cut _and Paste? ... Um, individually? ... Ahahah! _Print Screen! _... Wait why wasn't the Print Screen button working. Why were the photos all suddenly disappearing within the file. Hey, hey! ... ... An empty folder? What the-... Well, it had to still be on the memory stick, right?

He took it out of its slot and stared at it, only to hiss in momentary pain as something burned hot and fizzled from within the device. A spark emitted from it as he dropped it to the floor, and a small trail of smoke wheezed out from its casing...

Aw _man_~.

... He could have at least bragged about the Enigma one later...

Scratching at the back of his head, he gave a tired chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. Oh well, it wasn't like he'd be forgetting _those _any time soon. He guessed it was intended to be kept in mind only... Well, that he could do... Somewhat amused as well as creeped out, as ever, he reckoned this only made more things he needed to contact Izzy about. Shutting down the computer, he put it back on the chest of drawers and clambered back onto the bed, tucking the busted memory stick back in the gauntlet he had taken it from, before checking the primary compartment of the other one. Not only was there his comm device, but... something else again.

A folded up, _printed out_ photograph...

Having taken up the comm device in one hand, he quietly set it down again at his side, taking both his hands to the folded photo and opening it up. It was a portrait photo, as large as a page to your average A5 book. Wally drew back at first in surprise, but then a bright, beaming grin quickly spread across his face.

It was a photo of that 'giant lightning bolt' he had used the last of his graffiti on, painted all down the side of that building...

His expression softened into a genuine smile, and he folded the picture back up again and stuffed it back into the gauntlet compartment for now. Once he'd told Barry the truth about everything, all of this, which was bound to come up the moment Mr. Len expressed a significant quantity of confusion at any mention of drunken Kid Flashes... He'd want to show him that. Maybe then it could go on the _fridge_ or something... Hahah.

Finally, he picked up the comm again and checked for any recent messages.

(2) New Messages, apparently.

'That was fun. - ѵ'

...

'You should come again sometime. - ѵ '

... ...

'dude what the heck? i was so close to /actually/ getting to go on your jet-plane-thing! - KF'

...

...

_-bzzt-_

'But you /did/ get to go on our jet-plane-thing. - ѵ '

...

'ugghh shut up - KF'

...

'also i dont get it, whatever you gave me shouldve burned out in like, minutes! - KF'

...

_-bzzt-_

'Yeah we just shot you up again every time you made a noise. - ѵ '

...

'i can hear you laughing over there. - KF '

...

_-bzzt-_

'It was pretty funny. - ѵ '

...

'jerk. - KF'

...

_-bzzt-_

'Loser. - ѵ '

...

'creep. - KF'

...

_-bzzt-_

'Sucker. - ѵ '

...

'stupid. - KF'

_-bzzt-_

'Drunk. - ѵ '

...

...

'darn ur good at this - KF '

...

'I try. - ѵ '

...

'you better give me something awesome for christmas to make up for the jet thing - KF'

...

...

'We'll see. - ѵ '

...

' ;P - ѵ '

...

...

' :D - KF'


End file.
